One Long Shift
by Super Chocolate Bear
Summary: Others are trying to save the world. Barney just wants to get these people to White Forest without anyone dying.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I don't own _Half-Life._

_**One Long Shift**_

_**Prologue**_

Barney did his best to ignore the flashing lights coming from the direction of the Citadel, instead choosing to focus on Alyx's small wave. Gordon was, predictably, looking pretty blank, which Barney chose to believe was worry on his part.

"Bye Barney!" Alyx said, her voice mostly blocked by the blue glass separating them. Good luck!"

He put on his best reassuring grin, and gave a salute. "See ya when I see ya!"

The train jolted beneath his feet, and he instinctively grabbed on to the guardrail. Choosing to avert his gaze in case he abruptly decided he didn't want to go and started to cry like the big baby he was, Barney moved to the right-hand side of the train, leaning around to watch their course. They were heading for the tunnel on the far right.

Just as the train was about to enter, he cast his gaze back to the train station, catching sight of Gordon and Alyx as they ran along the platform. Then the tunnel enveloped him in darkness, and the small, vague shapes of his friends becoming smaller and smaller until even the tunnel itself was a pinprick on the horizon.

Clouds around the Citadel rumbled and flashed, and Barney struggled to tear his eyes away. He could have sworn he saw smoke coming from the train station, but found it difficult to distinguish it from the darkened clouds around the Citadel. Probably his paranoid, overactive 'seen way too many action movies' imagination. Gordon and Alyx were probably on the train and on their way, cracking open a bottle of champagne to toast their success.

And then they would _really _toast their success. Bow-chick-a-wow-wow.

He laughed and shook his head. Did Gordon _really _think it wasn't obvious? Barney doubted he was the only one to notice. Then again, no-one had said anything, so…

With a shrug and a shake of the head, Barney turned and pushed open the door, heading into the carriage. Usually, he prided himself on getting to know everyone who worked with him. Then again, he usually had one squad at a time. The whole evacuation had been such a crazy, rushed endeavour, he wondered if there was anybody on the entire train that he would recognise. Even their face, _something._

The carriage he was in now didn't make him feel any better. Sighing, he started the headcount anyway. One of the rebels shifted across the aisle to join some friends sat around a table, and Barney snapped his fingers and pointed at him.

"Hey, hey! Come on, tryin' to do a headcount here."

The guy, actually incredibly young, ducked his head sheepishly before slipping quietly back into his seat. "Sorry, sir."

Feeling like an asshole, Barney waved his hand about. "Don't apologise-" He sighed. "Just stay still, yeah? Even easy math confuses me."

That prompted a chuckle from others around the carriage, and the kid managed a little smile, though he still looked like a kicked puppy. "Okay, sir."

Barney looked back up the carriage to hide his scowl. He hated 'sir'. Made him feel old. Although, to that kid, he probably _was _old. Maybe more than double his age. Holy crap, that was depressing. Took him back to the day when he had realised he was too old for Alyx within a few moments of meeting her. Oh, how he had wished for _any _form of alcohol.

He recounted and started moving up the carriage again, ignoring the kid in favour of avoiding awkwardness. Slowly moving through the second carriage, Barney almost lost count when he saw a face he recognised, her gaze locked on the passing grey scenery. The rebel sat beside her was fidgeting with an old cigarette packet, and glanced up at him when he noticed that Barney wasn't moving on.

The rebel was about to say something when Barney quickly resumed counting. They were going to be stuck together for however long it took them to reach White Forest, no point in making things worse in the meantime. Best course of action would be to stay out of her way until they reached the base, and then… continue to avoid her. Yeah. That sounded good.

His pace significantly quicker, he ended up squeezing himself through the sliding door before it was fully open, taking him into the third and final carriage. Thankfully, no-one he knew.

"Twenty-nine, thirty… and with the driver that's… thirty-one," he sighed quietly to himself. Thirty-one people for him to keep alive. Gordon didn't know how easy he had it. All he had to worry about was the world. Barney had people, names, faces…

A cry from the back of the train caught his attention, and he started moving, ushering down the few rebels that were rising from their seats.

"Stay put, people," he said offhandedly as he went.

Keeping his gaze locked ahead, he noticed out of the corner of his eye that _she_ was watching. His grip on the rifle tightened as he passed into the first carriage. A low rumble vibrated through the train, the metal rattling around them. Others had gathered around the back door, murmuring and shoving to see what was going on.

"Comin' through!" Barney announced, poking the nozzle off his pulse rifle between them and gently pushing them aside. No-one had dared to actually move outside, and Barney slowly clicked open the door, trying to ignore how frightened everybody looked.

It was the Citadel, groaning ominously as it shot streaks of brilliant white energy into the circling clouds above it. Gunships and troop transports fled from all sides of the building, along with flying… things that Barney had never seen before. One of them was approaching the train, though it seemed to be flying overhead. Hand above his eyes, Barney followed it along until a sudden flash of red light hit him like a pipe around the head.

"-the _hell-" _he muttered, stumbling forward and grabbing onto the guardrail. By the time his vision cleared and the pain subsided, the thing had gone. Jesus. Barney would be happy never seeing one of those things again.

A white light grew from the base of the Citadel, becoming bigger and bigger until it was almost all encompassing. Almost like it was chasing them.

"Crap," he murmured, whirling on the spot and kicking open the door. "Everybody sit down and grab on to somethin'!" he cried, throwing himself down into a chair and latching onto the metal bar atop the bench in front of him.

After a moment of glancing at each other, everybody followed suit, grabbing on to overhead rails and the seats.

His back to the growing light, Barney watched as the carriage became brighter and brighter. A hollow, scraping whine filled the air until it became almost unbearable. The train jolted up in the air, and Barney clenched his eyes shut.

Well, dying in a train wreck was one way to avoid awkwardness.


	2. Repairs

Disclaimer: I don't own _Half-Life._

_**One Long Shift**_

_**Chapter One: Repairs**_

Pain wasn't something Kyle was that familiar with. Which he had always felt was pretty weird, considering he was a member of a resistance cell. And he had his own gun. And he had been shot at quite a lot. But for some reason, he had been one of the lucky ones. One of those people that bullets just seemed to dodge, sparking against metal bars and chipping at concrete around him instead. The worst pain he'd ever felt was when he'd knocked his funny bone while running from a Combine soldier.

Luckily, another rebel had been there to help him. Dead pretty much straight after, of course, but that was how things went for him.

That bang to the funny bone had been the worst pain he'd felt. Until now. He had been jolted awake by the smell of smoke wafting in from outside, acrid and stinging the back of his nostrils. Said jolt ran through his entire body. Including the leg that had been impaled by a metal bar.

"Holy crap," he breathed, unable to tear his eyes away from the streaks of blood on the dull metal, which had clearly pushed through his right thigh from behind.

It looked like it had snapped and broken from one of the seats around him, though he couldn't remember much about the crash. Had he hit his head?

The train groaned around him, tipping it at an angle to the right and sliding him ever-so-slightly along the seat. He moaned in a manner far girlier than he would have liked as the bottom of the bar touched against the wall, shifting it up just a little.

"Okay, okay, oh-kay," he chanted, stopping to take a breath. He had no idea what to do. Should he take it out?

His throat constricted as he wrapped his hand around the top of the bar. Clenching his fist, Kyle pulled ever so slightly. The frankly _ridiculous _pain that surged through his leg put an end to that, and he collapsed back, gasping for air.

"Shit, shit… ow…"

Another creak rumbled through the train car, and he slammed his hands down on the ground, head whipping about frantically.

"Woah, no, no, don't-"

The noise just as suddenly disappeared, and Kyle's ears perked up when he heard distant voices coming from down the train. Leaning over with a very cautious eye on the bar through his leg, Kyle tipped his head up.

"Hello?" he managed weakly, his voice catching in his throat in a pretty embarrassing manner. Cursing himself, Kyle cleared his throat and tried again. "Hello? Is anyone there? I'm in here!"

Nothing. A sigh of exasperation escaped him, and his head dropped back, his eyes closed. The pain was becoming constant now, searing and hot but oddly comforting in its way. Swallowing to soothe his dry throat, Kyle took a breath and opened his eyes.

"Hell-AAAH!"

The incredibly loud cry was owing to the rebel now stood over Kyle, staring down at him blankly. He was gaunt, his face sunken in, almost starved. His eyes were huge, though, large and unblinking.

Kyle stared up at him, finding the unwavering glare more than a little disconcerting. He cleared his throat.

"Hey, so uh…" He nodded at his leg, held tightly between his hands. "I'm kind of hurt and stuff…"

The guy blinked, though not in any kind of way that indicated signs of sentience. Then, without warning, he came to life, like a computer booting up. Wow, computer. Long time since Kyle had thought about one of those.

A spindly hand was thrust out at his face, and Kyle's head jerked back instinctively. Hesitantly, he brought his hand up, and was surprised at how vice-like the skinny guy's grip was.

Kyle was abruptly tugged to his unsteady feet. He tried to keep his weight off his right leg as the skinny guy put Kyle's arm over his shoulders. The train creaked around them, and something metal buckled loudly, causing the carriage to jolt just a little bit.

"Woah-okay," he breathed, wobbling unsurely.

His saviour didn't seem affected by the movement. It was like leaning against a tree. How did someone so skinny manage to be so sturdy?

With a grunt, his new friend nodded down the carriage, indicating which way they needed to go. Kyle started hobbling along, keeping a very wary eye on the metal bar wedged through his thigh. He _really _didn't want to know what it would feel like to catch that on a wall or chair.

He tried to occupy himself by checking out his surroundings. To the right was a forest, lush and verdant. To the left was a cliff-face, though it was at a disturbing angle in that the train was tipping away from it and down towards the forest. This impression was made even more severe as they moved into the next carriage, which was not only tipping at an angle but was diving off the rails altogether and into the forest.

They ended up limping their way across the windows on what would have been the right-hand side of the train under normal circumstances. The next carriage was on ground level. Kyle could make out that someone had broken the windows to enable a speedy escape.

With a delicacy that was surprising for a man with a permanent psychotic stare, Kyle's saviour helped him down the carriage and through the window, emerging into a clearing in the forest.

A beam of sunlight hit Kyle dead in the eyes, and he squinted as he tried to make out his surroundings in detail. As far as he could tell, almost everyone from the train was gathered in the forest around them.

Having apparently decided that this was as far as he was willing to carry him, Kyle's newest friend released his previously tight grip, slowly swinging him around and sitting him down beside a tree.

The guy looked at someone out of Kyle's eye-line and gestured down to him. With that, he turned to go.

"Hey, wait," Kyle managed, the shooting pain in his leg making it difficult to form coherent sentences. "Thanks for that. Uh, saving me and everything."

This seemed to be making him uncomfortable. The guy looked down at his feet, grunted, and shrugged.

"I'm, uh… I'm Kyle." He offered his spare hand, still clutching his leg with the other. "Good to meet you."

For the longest time, the guy just stared at his hand, as if it were diseased. Then, his expression unchanging, he slowly shook it.

"Boris."

Kyle nodded and smiled. "Boris. Okay. Sounds good. Thanks."

Boris grunted, and quickly released his hand as the medic rushed in, crouching down beside Kyle.

"Ah, Christ," she mumbled. Boris stalked off as the medic focused her steely blue gaze on Kyle, staring him right in the eye. "Okay kid. What's your name?"

"Kyle."

"You're one of those mysterious guys with one name?"

"What? No, I uh… no, sorry. Danvers. Kyle Danvers."

"Nice to meet ya," she said confidently, grabbing his hand and giving it a solid pump. "I'm June Wicker. And lucky for you and your leg, I'm a medic extraordinaire."

"Okay, well, that's… good."

"Bet your ass. So. You got a thing in your leg."

"Yeah."

"Hurt?"

"Sort of."

She cocked an eyebrow. "'Sort of'?"

Kyle shrugged. "Doesn't hurt so much anymore. Or I've got used to the pain."

June nodded, giving no indication as to whether that was good or bad. "Have you tried to take it out?"

"No. I wasn't sure if I should or not, and before I could even think about it, Boris showed up."

"Boris?"

He nodded to Boris, only to find that he was gone. As in, completely gone. Nowhere to be seen.

Looking around, June came to the same conclusion. She looked back to Kyle and shrugged. "Well, I saw him for a little bit. At least it means you're not hallucinating, am I right?"

She put a hand up for a high-five. Kyle thought about it, but then realised he was feeling a little dizzy. More than a little dizzy, actually. _Really _super dizzy.

"Hey, uh… I'm uh…"

June snapped her fingers. "Oh, damn, yeah, I forgot. I was distracting you with stupid conversation while I injected you with anaesthetic."

"Oh."

"Yeah, sorry. Just count sheep backwards from a hundred."

"Okay… yeah… what?"

And with that, Kyle's eyes closed, and the world faded away. He hoped the crazy medic lady knew what she was doing.

* * *

Apparently, the crazy medic lady knew what she was doing. At least, that's what Kyle had gathered from the fact that he was alive and no longer feeling nauseous. The pain had subsided considerably, and it no longer seemed to be dripping. Wounds that didn't drip were a good thing, as far as he knew.

It had taken him some time to come back to the land of the living. Kyle wasn't sure exactly how much time he had spent drifting in and out of consciousness, but by the time he was able to string sentences together and stay awake long enough to hear the reply the sun was setting.

Now, what felt like a couple of hours later, they were in darkness, with small campfires dotted around the area. Kyle was surprised they were allowed to have campfires at all - giving away their position to the enemy, and all that - but he wasn't about to complain about keeping his tootsies toasty.

Ray let out a frustrated groan from beside him. He was the only person who had been on the train that Kyle actually knew. They had met while queuing at a Combine ration station. Ray had been humming the theme from 'Ghostbusters' while he waited, which Kyle had plucked up the courage to mimic. Several others had joined in until a CP had sparked a baton and commanded silence.

Later, while they ate their rations on a bench in the courtyard outside, they had heard a CP oh-so-quietly singing about who he was gonna call.

From that moment, a friendship had been born. They both enjoyed their pop culture, though Ray's was almost encyclopaedic, and he had Kyle well and truly beaten on _Star Trek: The Next Generation _trivia.

That had been… two years ago, maybe three? It was hard to tell, what with the Combine banning time pieces and calendars. Only once Ray had drafted Kyle into the Resistance did he get a solid interpretation of time again. It took him about a month to get used to reading a clock-face again.

Shifting about again, Ray muttered a long curse with maybe some Klingon words in there, Kyle wasn't quite sure. It had been nearly two decades since he had watched an episode. Two _decades. _Never got easy thinking in those terms.

"What's up?" Kyle asked.

"Nothing, I just can't… get comfy. Hate to say it, but I miss standard issue Combine mattresses."

Kyle grunted a laugh, absent-mindedly rolling a twig through his fingers. "So, uh… did you meet Freeman?"

"Huh? I, uh- damn it." Ray plunged a gloved hand beneath his rear-end, groaning and shifting around until he produced a fist sized rock. "_There _you are! Much better."

Satisfied, Ray tossed the rock away, watching it bounce along the ground before he continued.

"Yeah, I did. He and, uh… what's-her-name, Cubbage's daughter."

"Cubbage doesn't have a daughter."

"Yeah he does. Hooded sweatshirt, old jeans, short hair?"

"That's-" He sighed and rubbed his eyes. "That's Alyx Vance. Eli Vance's daughter, from before the war."

"No, she told me she was Cubbage's daughter."

"I think she was messing with you. Cubbage seriously doesn't have a daughter."

"Okay, look. Kyle - can I call you Kyle?"

Kyle smiled, shook his head and mumbled, "Asshole…"

In the full swing of things, Ray continued on. "Kyle, I've been in the resistance a _lot _longer than you. I think I know who the big kahuna's are."

"That is literally the first time I've heard a real person use the word 'kahuna'."

"Whatever, I like it."

"Okay, but she was Alyx Vance, Eli Vance's daughter. For her to be Cubbage's daughter, that would require a woman to be attracted to Cubbage. Just think about that for a second."

They both did, and then promptly shuddered.

"So she was messing with me. Eli Vance's daughter was messing with me." He smiled. "Cool."

Kyle rolled his eyes. "Yeah, but what was _Gordon Freeman _like?"

"Oh, uh… quiet. Very quiet."

"Yeah, I'd heard that about him. Did he say _anything?"_

"Let's see… he talked to Barney a little. He made a little speech before he escorted my group to the train, but he seemed to forget what he was saying. And then he blew up an armoured Combine assault vehicle."

Ray had added that last bit as though it were an afterthought.

"Was he good at it? Fighting and… blowing stuff up?"

Ray had to think about that for a second. "Well… it was weird. He did the job, and he did it _really_ efficiently, but it was like… okay, you remember in Dragonball when Kami pretends to be a human to enter the Tenkaichi Budoukai so he can fight Piccolo?"

"No."

"And he beat people by pretending to be an idiot? Falling over himself and 'accidentally' head butting, kicking, and pretty much beating the crap out of his opponents?"

"I said no, are you listening?"

"Well, that's Freeman's fighting style."

"…oh." Kyle rubbed his sore leg tenderly. "That doesn't sound like a living legend."

Ray shrugged, frowned and looked at Kyle. "I thought your group secured the train. Didn't you meet him while he was escorting people?"

Kyle sighed, a little huffy. "No. I was already on the train. I saw Barney talking to him and Vance through the window before we left, but that was it."

"Oh. I met him twice."

"Shut up."

"He was really cool."

"Shut up."

"He's not cool."

They both looked up at the source of the amused voice, and beheld Barney Calhoun, tired but smiling. He was carrying a rucksack in one hand, and Kyle recognised it as his.

"Where'd you get that?" he asked, wondrously.

"I wanted to make sure we weren't leavin' any supplies on the train, and lo and behold, there was your rucksack, neatly tucked away in a luggage compartment."

"It stayed there during the crash?"

Barney laughed quietly. "Yep. Don't blame ya for not lookin', though. If I had a pole through my leg I wouldn't be lookin' for my luggage."

"I forgot all about it until literally right now."

"Well, here ya go. Nice idea with the nametag, by the way. Wish others were that smart," he said, groaning a little as he stooped to put the bag on the floor. After a moment's indecision, Barney looked at Kyle and Ray.

"Actually, to hell with it. You guys mind if I take a load off?"

Ray smiled in that slight way he did when he was about to make a joke. "So long as you're talking about sitting down, sure."

That earned a small guffaw from Barney as he - seemingly painfully - plopped to the ground beside Kyle.

"How's the leg?"

Kyle looked down at the appendage, scratching his (admittedly weak) goatee. "Uh, okay, I guess. I haven't seen the medic who fixed me up since she knocked me out, so… I'm hoping that's a good thing."

"It is," Barney replied simply, staring off into space.

They sat in silence. Kyle idly traced a finger along the zipper on his rucksack while they waited.

"What happened to Freeman?" Ray finally asked.

"Uh…" Barney took a deep breath and blew it out again. "Don't know. He and Alyx were gonna distract the Combine long enough for us to get away. Gordon has a habit of drawin' attention to himself. Wearin' a big orange spacesuit and blowin' the shit out of everythin'll do that."

"Not to mention the glasses," Ray mumbled. "I mean, who wears glasses anymore? I think Kleiner's the only other person on the planet who still wears them."

Feeling like it needed to be brought up, Kyle raised a finger in the air. "Though there _are _a lot of people who need them. I know like ten different people who can't read road signs or tell the difference between a Combine soldier and a CP at a distance."

Barney nodded, sighing, "I think I need readin' glasses."

Ray and Kyle stared at him, surprised by the admission.

"Geez, I feel old just imaginin' it," he continued, rubbing his eyes. "Sat with a book, little glasses perched on the end of my nose…"

"Smoking a pipe…" Ray added.

Their own personal security guard shuddered. "Okay, that's enough of that."

"W- hey, there's nothing wrong with having to wear glasses," Kyle defended. "I mean, Freeman wears glasses, and he's going to save the world."

"One crowbar swing at a time," Barney said wistfully. Then something seemed to catch his eye, and his face and shoulders tensed. A _lot_.

"Well," he announced, clapping his hands on his knees, "gotta be movin' on. Nice talkin', fellas. See ya later."

Thoroughly confused - and a little disappointed - Kyle nodded. "Uh… yeah, sure."

Ray did a little salute. "See ya, boss."

This seemed to cause Barney physical pain, and he winced. "Don't call me-"

At that moment, Kyle's saviour, June Wicker, arrived, and Barney's gaze went straight down.

"See ya," he mumbled. He just about managed to bring his eyes up to meet June's, and gave the slightest of nods before vacating the area as awkwardly as possible.

June didn't even acknowledge him, instead focusing on Kyle's leg. "So, how's that doing? You feelin' okay?"

There was something about her that Kyle found intimidating. He wasn't sure if it was her being pretty in a 'I could demolish five CPs at once' way, her direct bedside manner, or something else.

"Uh… yeah, yeah. It's great, yeah. Well, not _great_, I mean, it hurts, but… yeah, it's fine."

Ray's smirk indicated that Kyle really needed to shut up, so he did just that while June inspected the bandage.

"Well," she began, in a manner eerily similar to Barney's, "I'm afraid we've sorta had a ration on medpacks, so until we come across a stash or somewhere with proper medical supplies, you've gonna have to limp along and let it heal the old fashioned way."

"Have you got any, uh…" Kyle paused for a moment, wondering if this was a stupid question. "…crutches or something to keep the weight off my leg?"

This prompted a huge snort of laughter from June, confirming that it was, indeed, a stupid question.

"No, no crutches. This ain't E.R." She glared at the smirking Ray. "You get that reference, Ray?"

"Never watched it."

"Then you missed out. Plenty of great female role models, just what you need."

"I-" Ray stopped, at a loss for words. He settled for a scowl.

"Anythin' else botherin' ya?" June asked, looking Kyle straight in the eye for the first time.

"Uh, actually, I was wondering what the plan was. I mean, I know originally we were going to take the train as close to White Forest as possible and then go on foot, but… people are injured and stuff, so are we heading out tomorrow, or…?"

Intense blue eyes bored into his.

Realisation dawned, and Kyle sighed. "You meant medical things."

"Yep."

"Sorry."

"No problem. Uh, I dunno. You were just talkin' to Calhoun, didn't he tell you?"

"Not really, we just talked about Gordon Freeman. And glasses."

"And pipes," Ray chipped in. A confused look from June forced Ray's eyes down, where he fidgeted with a rock. "…for smoking. Smoking pipes."

"Right." June shook her head and returned her focus to Kyle. "I don't know. No-one's injured so badly they can't move, so I'm guessin' we're walkin' the whole thing."

"Oh." Blankly, Kyle looked down at his injured leg. "Walking. Good."

This managed to elicit a genuine laugh from June, which made Kyle feel quite proud for some reason.

"Ah, don't worry about it," she said, slapping him on the arm. "Ray'll help ya around. Won't ya, Ray?"

Ray cleared his throat. "Well, uh, actually, I've had back problems since I was a kid, and-"

He looked Kyle, stopped, and sighed.

"Yeah, I'll help you around."

"Good," June and Kyle said in sync.

Happy with her work, June jumped to her feet. "I'll see you guys around. Kyle, get some sleep, the more your rest the quicker that leg'll heal up."

"Gotcha."

She nodded, did a little salute, and whirled on her heel, trudging off into the forest to (presumably) see to her many other patients dotted around the camp.

Kyle and Ray sat in silence for a moment.

"Ray?" Kyle said.

"Yeah?"

"You're my bitch now."

"Shut up."

* * *

(A/N: My first foray back into _Half-Life_ for… some time now. This one has been in the planning stages since I finished (until _Episode Three _comes out, shut up, you know what I mean) 'Aftermath' and I found that I missed writing Barney. So, here he is, showing us how he spent his time during _Episode Two_. Of course, _Episode Three _is probably going to show up and crap all over this story with one line of dialogue, but whatever. Fan fiction.

By the by, I assumed that there was a night-time gap between _Episode One _and _Episode Two_, simply because we don't see night fall in either. So either Gordon was unconscious in-between, or maybe his train went through a slow teleport thing because of close proximity to the portal energy being let off by the Citadel… or something.

So yeah, hope you enjoyed this first couple of chapters. More to come later. Reviews, as always, are encouraged. A LOT.)


	3. Setting Course

Disclaimer: I don't own _Half-Life._

_**One Long Shift**_

_**Chapter Two: Setting Course**_

It was something that ashamed his Dad. His Mom didn't really mind, she just wanted him to do what made him happy. But his Dad, oh no, he was not happy about it in any way. But Barney had insisted. It was something that made him who he was. A part of him. And Dad would just have to accept it.

Barney Calhoun did not like camping.

Not.

At.

All.

The bugs, the cold, the hard ground… contrary to appearances of being a gun-toting badass, Barney really liked soft things. Pillows, blankets… hell, if he'd had time back at Black Mesa, he would have gone back to his apartment and fetched Mr Wubbles the teddy bear.

So he was not in the best mood when he awoke with a stiff neck and a sore back. The back had subsided since then, but the neck was still as tough as beef jerky.

Though it wasn't like he had been sleeping comfortably through the night only to wake up in pain. He awoke at dawn - a nasty habit his body had adopted during the decade he spent travelling across the world. A guy could never be sure when Civil Protection would come a'callin'.

But, unlike those times, he had the luxury of being able to try to get back to sleep. The bright flash of blue energy that emerged from the direction of City 17 kind of cancelled that appointment, however. And then the massive wave of portal energy that had swept over them left him feeling tingly all over, and any chance of further shut-eye was pretty much out of the question.

Amazingly, almost everyone else slept through it. One or two grunted and blearily looked around before settling on sleep again. Some had a similar experience to him, and spent the next few hours restlessly pacing around the area. Barney figured that the more people on patrol the better, so he left them to it.

He left everyone alone for (he guessed) an hour. After a delicious breakfast consisting of week old Combine ration bread with a side order of water, Barney made his way around the camp, checking on those who were up and nudging awake those who weren't.

Though he left June Wicker to sleep. Talking to her when she was calm was difficult enough for him as it was. So the prospect of poking her in the shoulder and dealing with her awakening wrath really didn't appeal.

Looked like one of her companions was seeing to it anyway. Despite the nature of the situation between himself and Wicker, he still managed a smile as he turned away, preparing for the sounds of someone being attacked. A morning person she most definitely was not.

"Go 'way!"

"Wicker, we gotta go-"

"Go 'WAY!"

Thump.

Shaking his head, Barney gathered up what actually amounted to his belongings. Sad, really. He had two Combine ration packs (yum), a trio of extra cartridges for his pulse rifle, half a bottle of water, a comb (might as well _try _to make himself look pretty), a beaten copy of a _Field of Dreams _novelisation Eli had dug out of the back and beyond for his birthday a few years back…

He checked a zipped up pocket on the outside of his armour vest. His engagement ring.

Of course, he knew about the reality of the situation. Lots of people were dead. America was… hell, Barney hadn't set foot in what used to be America in… a long time. And when he _was_ there, he hadn't had a chance to check for her.

But he had never received word saying that she _wasn't _alive. So, as far as he was concerned, Lauren was alive. Somewhere. Fussing over the most unnoticeable smudges on windows, making sure that all the cutlery was laid out _exactly _parallel to each other… but she wasn't OCD. Honest.

He smiled, and today was one of the lucky days where his reminiscing about his fiancée simply made him feel good. Some days he dreaded thinking about her, about letting the darkness in the back of his mind overtake him. Never let it show, though. Obviously. Much as he didn't like it, he was a figurehead. Not quite an 'Opener of the Way', but he always noticed the others looking at him, watching him for some indication of how they should behave, what they should do.

'Admiration by association' was the phrase he had coined while discussing it with Eli. Seems just knowing Gordon Freeman was enough to earn you a pass to become a statue in the future 'Museum of How Some Dorky Scientist Saved the World/Universe'.

And so, there he was. Never letting it show, never letting anyone see just how tired he was. Because that was pretty much him. Tired.

"Barney!"

The call snapped him back to life. Sighing, he kissed the engagement ring, securely put it in his pocket and zipped it shut. After lightly patting the pocket to make himself feel better, he heaved himself to his feet.

"Yeah?"

The girl - he thought her name might be Rachel, but he wasn't sure - gave him a thumbs up. "Everybody's ready to go."

"Okay. Thanks."

With what he could only describe as an old man's grunt, Barney bent over to scoop up his rucksack, zipped it closed, and slung it over his shoulders.

"All right people, let's move out!" he announced, whirling his finger in the air like a helicopter for no reason other than he thought it would make him look like he knew military gestures and inspiring stuff like that.

And so, off they went, moving into the woods in a direction that only Barney knew for sure - the less people who knew the exact location of White Forest the better. Frankly, even if he had no clue where the base was, he still thought it was a good idea to put as much distance between them and the portal that was brewing over what was left of City 17. He still had nightmares about the portal storms that had followed the nuclear detonation at Black Mesa. He didn't need any more, thank you very much.

The trek went relatively smoothly. Occasionally someone was accosted by a headcrab, or Barney thought he heard something and everybody had to wait until he was satisfied they were safe… but, much to his approval, everybody moved along quite nicely.

After an hour of solid hiking, Barney checked the thirty-one people under his care. Most seemed okay. Some were huffing and puffing quite a bit, some were powering on ahead. But, best of all, most were keeping more or less on a par with those who were injured, ready to help at a moment's notice when they stumbled.

Those kind of gestures made Barney feel good about being a leader-type person - gave him leave to feel things like pride in the good nature of those under his command.

Though 'under his command' made him sound like some crusty old sea captain. Or Cubbage. Jerk.

With a fond smile, he stopped and put up a hand. "Okay everybody, take a break!"

He heard a distinct and very relieved 'Oh thank God', though he couldn't tell where it had come from. Made him smile, either way. It was something he looked for every day; something to smile about. Since Gordon came back, it was becoming easier.

It was difficult to describe just how overjoyed he had been at just being able to be around his friend again. The process of rediscovering little quirks and habits; the way he occasionally wrinkled his nose to adjust his glasses rather than use his hands - the long pauses he left before simply stating those _'Ah's _that were often so perfectly timed Barney wondered if Gordon didn't have some hidden life as a stand-up comedian. Before the Black Mesa thing, obviously. Barney didn't imagine there were too many comedy clubs under Combine rule.

"_You guys know about the suppression field, right? What's up with __**that**__?"_

"_Sterilise and subsume."_

"…_does that count as a laugh?"_

He needed to write that one down. If he had a pen. Or paper.

Everybody pretty much sat straight down, with minimal moving around to sit near their friends. As he dug into his ration pack, Barney looked around the forest. And in that moment, just in that single, blissful moment, he forgot about the Combine. He forgot where they had come from, where they were going, what they were doing, why they were doing it and how they got there…

He was just a guy hanging out with a bunch of other people, sitting around in the woods and having a picnic. Barney Calhoun was on a field trip.

So, naturally, that was the perfect moment for the faintest echo of a Combine radio to reach his ears.

Barney felt like he was moving through clay as he scrambled to his feet, scooping up his pulse rifle and yelling at his group.

"Get-"

Across from him, a clueless rebel's head exploded, splattering blood on the woman beside him. Amazingly, she didn't scream, panic, or freak out in any way. She quickly and efficiently shoved the body of her friend aside and rolled to a nearby tree, taking cover behind it while she pulled out a handgun.

Everybody else had followed suit at that point, making Barney feel a little better. No-one else was dead.

Barney whirled around the thick tree he was taking cover behind, rifle first and blasting away. He spied the blue eye-pieces of two Combine soldiers in the distance. None of his shots manage to hit, but at least he got a view of them.

He nodded to the woman at the tree beside him, holding two fingers to his eyes, and then pointing the same digits over his shoulder in the direction of the soldiers. So he did know some military-type gestures after all. Whether they were official 'Semper-Fi' 'Ooorah' gestures, he didn't know. But they got the job done.

The woman nodded, and checked over her other shoulder, silently conversing with the rebels near her. Barney fired blindly over his shoulder while he waited. She came back to him with confirmation of one more soldier.

Barney frowned. "Only three?" he muttered.

Thinking the question aimed at her, the woman shrugged, and started returning fire herself.

Only three soldiers really didn't feel right. As in, it gave him the willies. And Barney didn't like willies.

_Yes, willies. Stop sniggering at the back._

Shaking it off, Barney started returning fire in earnest. It didn't take long for them to flush the soldiers out and take them down.

A couple of minutes later, Barney and four others stood over the gathered bodies.

"Why am I so freaked out by three soldiers?" Richards, a small, stout guy with a thick beard that would make Gordon envious asked.

"Because it's not enough," Barney replied, kneeling down by the bodies.

Almost on cue, a shrill, rattling cry echoed through the forest. Everybody was instantly alert.

A redheaded girl pulled up her machinegun. "What… uh… _what?"_

The guy next to her, a guy with a recently healed scar on his cheek, nodded his head about shakily. "Yeah, that."

"Honestly don't know…" Barney said cautiously, casting a way eye around the forest.

"I do."

They all looked to the woman who had, a few minutes earlier, been suddenly splattered in the brain matter of one of her friends. She was keeping it together very well - Barney wondered if a break was coming at some point. That was usually how these things worked, in his experience. Putting the trauma aside for a later time.

Or she could just be a badass. That was always a possibility.

"Hunters," she said simply.

Ginger and Scar let out a simultaneous 'Oh shit'.

Barney's mouth went dry. "Anybody got an alternative fire loaded on their pulse rifle?"

Everybody was quiet.

"_Anybody?"_

"I'll check," Richards said, sprinting off to the rest of a group with a speed that belied his bulk. It would have been hilarious to watch under any other circumstances.

As it was, Barney was seriously concerned about the survival of just about everybody.

Seemingly out of nowhere, a Hunter savagely trampled Richards, crushing him underfoot with terrifying ease. After taking a moment to nudge the corpse, it turned its attention to Barney's group. From the sounds of things, another Hunter was running amok in the main area.

He grit his teeth, hating the fact he couldn't do anything to help them. Best he could do was try to kill the monster immediately in front of him. Anything else was pointless worrying.

With a growl, the Hunter bowed what passed for a head in their direction, shaking angrily before charging. Powerful hooves pounded down as the Hunter thundered towards them, colliding head on with the blood covered woman and sending her flying up into the trees. She collided with a thick branch and tumbled down to the ground.

Barney and Ginger opened fire, puncturing the shiny black surface of the Hunter's shell, though it only seemed to make the shallowest of impact. He tried his best to hit the eyes, but the damn thing was moving around so frantically it was pretty much impossible to get a bead on it.

It whirled on the spot and struck Scar and Ginger with one leg, swatting them back into a tree. Ginger's head hit the trunk with a quick, sickening thud, while Scar was in the position of having used her as an airbag.

Barney did the only thing he could; he kept firing. But he was acutely aware of how much ammunition he had left, and that all of his ammo was in a rucksack that was too far away to be of any good.

The Hunter growled and opened fire. Barney did the only thing he could think to do, and dove down underneath the Hunter. His skid didn't have anywhere near the power he had estimated, however, and he ended up coming to a neat halt directly beneath the Hunter's belly.

"Now that ain't good," he muttered.

He brought his rifle up and opened fire point-blank. To his credit, this seemed to cause the Hunter genuine discomfort. Unfortunately, he was in the worst possible position that someone causing a Hunter discomfort could be in. A powerful hoof stamped down on him, hitting him in the chest.

Pain shot through him, and any coherent thought that had been in his brain was replaced with 'OHMYFUCKGODAAAAAUURRR!'.

Scar fired point-blank into the Hunter's side, and the creature stumbled back with a snarl. Barely able to move, Barney ducked his head down, gasping in pain as he brought his arms up to weakly protect his skull.

Predictably, the Hunter didn't take kindly to Scar's attack, and reared up for another charge. Pain shooting through his chest, Barney tried to crawl out of the creature's path, but knew he wouldn't be able to drag his legs out of the way in time.

A low growl emerged from somewhere opposite the Hunter, and the creature stopped in its charge to look over at the noise. Head tilted to the side like a curious dog, it was greeted by a flash of green lightning blasting it directly in the eyes.

Barney's gaze whipped over to see a Vortigaunt sprinting over. It vaulted over his prone form easily, and Scar knelt down beside him to watch as the alien skid along the floor feet first. With an ease and agility that Vortigaunts only seemed to have in battle, it slid between the Hunter's stumbling hooves, latched on to the one of the legs, and swung itself up on top of the growling beast.

Riding atop the Hunter like a cowboy on a prize stallion, the Vort raised one clawed hand while gripping tight onto the Hunter's shell with the other. A green sphere of energy crackled in its palm for just a couple of moments before it plunged it down into the glowing blue eyes of the Hunter.

The Hunter didn't even have a chance to cry out in pain. It just imploded, a dull thud accompanying the burst of green energy that emanated out between the cracks of the Hunter's hardened shell.

Smoke belching out, the Hunter stumbled side to side before collapsing in a heap. The Vort, of course, dismounted as it fell, making it look as easy as hopping off a bicycle.

It cast a cursory look around the area before settling its cycloptic gaze on Barney. A low growl vibrated out from the Vort as it strode over to him, rubbing its hands together and building green energy. Serenely closing its eye, the Vort knelt beside him and waved both hands over his body.

"A minor injury. Easily repaired," it grumbled soothingly.

"Minor?" Barney scoffed. "How is this minor? What the hell do you call major?"

"Decapitation."

His mouth hung open for a moment. "…fair enough. And you can fix that?"

"With planning."

"…cool."

The green energy abruptly vanished, and the Vort let out a heavy sigh. "It is done."

"W- seriously?"

Barney sat up abruptly, and felt only a dull ache in his chest. Well, the dull ache was still pretty painful, but it was better than the stabbing sensations he had been feeling before. Aching was definitely better than stabbing.

With more old man grunts, Barney heaved himself to his feet, and stuck out a hand towards the Vort. "Thanks."

It waved the gratitude away. "Unnecessary. This one was merely… happy to help."

Knowing from previous experience not to push the issue, Barney just smiled and nodded. Hands on hips, he looked back to the rest of the group.

"I'm guessin' the other Hunter's out of commission?"

"When this one came across the Calhoun and his comrades, they had already seen to the Hunter's destruction, utilising the secondary function of the AR2 pulse rifle."

"Okay, let's- hold up, what? You came across us? You weren't coming for us?"

"Regrettably true," the Vort sighed. "This one was en route to a situation most dire. The Alyx Vance clings to the margins."

"Hey, woah, what? Alyx? Is she okay?"

"I know not the precise details. A call was sent out… this one, amongst many others, responded."

Barney's brain was racing ahead of his mouth, and he stopped to allow his questions out in a coherent manner.

"Okay, so… Alyx is injured? Is she close by? Is Gordon with her?"

"Injured, and most gravely. The Freeman-"

It abruptly stopped, its eye half closed as though entering some trance. After a moment, it awoke.

"The Freeman is by the Alyx Vance, guarding her in her hour of need."

"Yeah, that sounds like Gordon. Are we close enough to help?"

The Vort shook its head. "Though you need not fear. Enough of my kin are now at their position to render our assistance redundant. With the Freeman by their side, they surely cannot fail."

A grin wormed its way across Barney's face. "I love your faith, man. Okay, so, you good to come with us? I'd feel much better about comin' across any more Hunters with you here."

"Indeed. I shall continue the work of my brethren while they are occupied; the hunt for Advisors yet unhatched continues."

Scar frowned. "Advisors? What?"

"Shu'ulathoi."

"Combine bigwigs," Barney clarified quietly, almost under his breath. "Am I right?"

"Assuming that 'bigwigs' indicates an evil power beyond all human comprehension, then… yes."

Coming from anyone else, Barney would have assumed that was a joke. As it was, it just made him that little bit more afraid. "But you're good to take those by yourself, yeah?"

"An optimistic appraisal of the situation."

"Yeah, thanks Darth," he grumbled.

He glanced down at the body of the blood covered girl, and then Ginger. "How are they?" he asked quietly, well aware of the answer that was coming.

"This one surmised their condition before moving to help the Calhoun. They have… expired."

Suddenly feeling very heavy, Barney sighed and nodded. "Hearin' that never gets easy." He knew he didn't have time to linger, though, and took a breath. "Okay, let's see to everyone else, make sure they're okay."

When they reached the rest of the group, Scar rushed off to see to those he knew, two women and a guy huddled by a tree. The rest seemed to be okay.

Barney did what he always did in these situations; he checked for dead bodies. It was a regrettable instinct that came from way too many years of leading people into nasty situations. Two people were being tended to by medics. Past them, he saw a body with a blanket draped over it.

He slowly rubbed his forehead and put his hands on his hips, looking around the area. The Danvers kid and Ray were sat by a tree. Danvers was rubbing his leg self-consciously, looking around the area with an embarrassed expression.

With a smile he couldn't help, Barney wandered over. "How you guys doin'?"

"Uh…" Danvers looked down at his previously impaled leg. "Okay, I guess. Wish I could have helped back there."

"You'll get a chance, don't worry," Barney said, aiming to make him feel better but realising it made him sound like a pessimistic jerk.

"See you made a friend," Ray added, nodding over Barney's shoulder.

Frowning, Barney turned and promptly jumped out of his skin when he realised the Vort was standing almost directly behind him.

"Don't… _do _that."

"Apologies, Calhoun."

Ray glanced between them wondrously. "They know your name?"

"Uh…" Barney rubbed the back of his head. He always felt hesitant talking about this; it only increased the whole 'admiration by association' thing. "Yeah. I met Vorts in Black Mesa. Tried to reason with a couple of 'em. Didn't work out, but I tried."

"The Calhoun was the first of humanity to comprehend a greater consciousness in Vortikind."

With a glazed look in his eyes, Ray just gave an open mouthed nod. "…great. And you are?"

"This one does not have a title. Such things serve no purpose to Vortikind."

"Oh. Well, it'd help us if you had a name. Right, Barney?"

Caught off guard, Barney blinked himself back to reality. He was doing his best not to think about the peaceful yet fearful look in the Vortigaunt's eyes as they died.

"Uh, yeah, sure. I mean, if you don't mind," he added quickly, looking to the Vort for reassurance.

"Not at all."

Ray looked overjoyed by the prospect of being able to name his very own alien. "Great! Uh… Piccolo."

"I'm not calling him Piccolo," Barney dismissed.

"…Worf?"

Frustrated, Barney tried to say something, but instead clamped his mouth shut and raised a warning finger at Ray. Forcing himself to relax, he put his hands on his hips and quickly said, "Bob. He's called Bob."

He looked to the Vort. "You're Bob. Congratulations. See ya later, Bob."

"'Bob'?" Ray questioned.

"Bob," the Vort repeated, seemingly satisfied with the name.

Ray wasn't. "Come on, you're killing me. 'Bob'?"

"Yes?" the Vort replied.

Barney promptly left before the conversation drove him insane. He heard Ray talking to Bob as he went.

"Well, your surname's Worf."

"You can't call him Bob Worf," Danvers admonished.

"But this way we can call him _Mr_ Worf!"

With a smile that was halfway between amusement and exasperation, Barney focused his attention on the groups around him. Most specifically, the medics tending to the wounded.

One of the medics being June Wicker.

His first instinct was to walk around her and speak to the medic beside her. But something inside him piped up, suddenly giving him a boost of courage. He was in charge of this expedition, damn it. He needed to be able to talk to his medics without fear of…

Well, without fear of being looked at with a level of bile and revulsion usually reserved for Dr Breen's child-murdering little brother. Who didn't even _exist_, so… Barney really needed to get over this. She couldn't hate him more than someone who didn't even exist. Hopefully.

* * *

_Barney sat cross-legged in the small apartment. The pieces of an MP7 lay spread out in front of him. He hadn't done this in a long time - not since basic training. But he felt like he needed to get them fresh in his mind again. He was going to be a leader of men, after all. And women. And children. Though children in this case seemed to amount to eighteen years old, tops. And when he said tops, he meant… the lowest._

_Screw it, he didn't know what he meant._

_The door to the apartment gingerly opened, and Barney glanced up. Much to his delight, he found that he didn't instinctively go for the handgun tucked behind his back. Nice to know that his subconscious was relaxing since he had reunited with Eli, Kleiner and the rest._

_An uncomfortable looking woman poked her head in, and Barney waved her over._

"_C'mon in, don't worry."_

_Looking very put upon, she moved inside, delicately closing the door behind her, checking for anyone in the corridor as she did so._

_That made Barney nervous, and he wondered if maybe his subconscious was on the wrong track._

"_What's up?" he asked, trying to sound bright and cheerful despite the wariness that was creeping up on him._

_The woman went to sit down opposite him, but then thought better of it, going for a chair in the corner. Barney's bag rested atop it, and she pointed at it._

"_Can I move that?"_

"_Yeah, sure-"_

_She had removed the bag before he had even managed to speak. Bringing the chair over, she planted herself opposite him again. Barney felt a little at a loss, and felt like he should stand up. But this woman seemed tense enough as it was, no need to intimidate her with his super manliness._

"_What's, uh…"_

"_Vance says you're a good guy."_

"_Well… I think so. Wait, which Vance?"_

"_Alyx."_

"_Right, right. Not sure why I asked that, doesn't really matter. So long as one Vance likes you, you're in, right?"_

_She didn't even smile, and Barney's melted away._

"_What's wrong?"_

_For some reason, that made her laugh. "Wrong? I wouldn't say it's wrong, exactly."_

_Frowning, Barney made a concentrated effort to understand what was going on. "Okay, let's uh… start over. I'm Barney Calhoun. I'm a security guard. I'll be looking after you and tons of other people today. How can I help you?"_

_The woman studied his face while she chewed on her top lip. Finally, she relented, leaning back in an almost confrontational way._

"_I'm June Wicker. I'm a medic. I'll be giving birth later in the year."_

_Silence hung in the room like a dead weight. Barney's brain was frozen._

_After a couple of seconds, there was a slight thaw. "…to a baby?"_

* * *

Taking a breath that tightened in his still aching chest, Barney made his way over, and crouched down opposite her.

"How are they?"

She visibly flinched. "Uh… fine. Yeah. Broken arm on this one," she said, nodding down to her patient.

"And him?" he asked quietly, gesturing to the man lying on his front behind Wicker. He was regretting this conversation with every sentence.

"Hunter blasted his satchel with those needle things. Managed to get it off before they exploded, but it still burnt him pretty badly."

Barney winced as he saw the medic tending to said burn victim, peeling layers of clothing that had been seared onto his skin.

"Okay," he said, nodding. "Good. Good job."

"I know I'm doing a good job."

"Yeah, I know, I was just wanted to make sure you- I don't know."

"Look. Calhoun. You did the 'leader being concerned' thing, and you did it well." She did a little mock salute. "Now please, just… away, please."

He swallowed, his throat dry. "Yeah. I uh… Yeah, good. Right. Off I go."

And so, off he went, as quickly as his leader legs could take him. So, one guy shot by surprise. Richards trampled. Blood covered girl rammed. Ginger crushed into a tree. Down to twenty-seven. Plus a Vort called Bob took it back up to twenty-eight. He sighed and rubbed his eyes. Four dead people he could do nothing to save. He made a mental note to get their names and write them down before he buried them.

After wandering aimlessly around the makeshift camp, Barney's brain finally started kicking into gear, and he went searching for the communications guy or gal. Part of his brain thought that they should be called a 'Communications Officer' or something like that, but to be honest, that introduced a level of discipline to this operation that he really wasn't enthusiastic about.

As turned out, it was a communications gal by the name of Stephanie, and she was adorably confident and helpful.

"Yep, sure. White Forest, okey-dokey."

Barney was a little surprised she was the one being left to lug around the radio on her back - it wasn't exactly a light piece of equipment, but damn if she didn't know what she was doing. Headphones on, flicking switches here and turning dials there with a speed that made him worry that she was being half-assed, it only took her a couple of seconds to tune in to the White Forest frequency.

That was when she frowned. "Okay. That's weird."

He crouched down beside her, and noted that the pain in his chest was subsiding a little. "What is?"

"I'm on the White Forest frequency, but no-one's responding. I'm not getting an emergency beacon, nothing."

"That's… weird."

"I know, right?"

"Yeah, but we gotta figure out if it's good weird or bad weird. So either White Forest is gone, which I'm not considerin' as an option at the moment. The radio could be broken-"

"Screw that! All due respect, of course."

Barney smirked. "Of course. So what else? Could the Combine be blockin' the signal?"

"Well… maybe, but they'd have to know…"

Her voice died in her throat, and Barney knew why. Their minds were on the same course.

"They'd have to know where we are," he sighed. Wearily, he rubbed his eyes. "God damn it."

* * *

(A/N: Reviews, please, I literally live off them.)


	4. Navigation

Disclaimer: I don't own _Half-Life._

_**One Long Shift**_

_**Chapter Three: Navigation**_

For reasons that were beyond Kyle, the Vort now entitled Bob Worf decided to hang around with them while Barney talked about something with Stephanie the communications girl. And it was something serious, judging by the look on their faces. Kyle had seen Barney looking grim now and again, but Stephanie? Never. So for something to get her down, it must have been pretty nasty.

Everyone had a crush on Stephanie. Well, all the guys did. Well, _most _of the guys. And some girls. Kyle was included in that number. It was probably the unbridled optimism she had in a time of, oh, what's the term… total post-apocalyptic depression.

The prettiness didn't hurt, of course, but it was mostly the bright optimism thing. Though Kyle had a tendency to over-think _everything_, so it might just be as shallow as a pleasing appearance.

"A situation most dire," Bob growled quietly, prompting both Kyle and Ray to look at him in a panic.

"What? You know what's going on?" Kyle asked, perhaps a little too frantically.

The Vort waved his concern away. "Merely a deduction based on the Calhoun's demeanour."

"Oh. Okay."

Kyle watched Barney take the microphone attached to Stephanie's equipment and deliver a terse message that he strained to hear, but couldn't pick up in any way.

"Mr Worf," Ray said slowly, clearly enjoying being able to use that name, "can you hear what he's saying?"

Bob opened his mouth to reply, stopped, and then closed it again. It was the first time Kyle had seen a Vort hesitate.

"This one does not wish to speak out of turn. If the Calhoun wishes to share the details of his message, he shall do so."

"Thanks, Captain Buzzkill."

"Forgiveness - is 'Captain Buzzkill' another title for this one to adopt?"

Ray sighed. "Never mind."

The conversation ended up redundant, however, when Barney gave Stephanie a grateful pat on the shoulder before moving into the middle of the 'camp', if that was really what you could call the gathering in the wake of the Hunter attacks.

"Okay, people. We're movin' out ASAP - we can't stay here much longer."

This was aimed at the medics. Wicker glared at him, but Barney ignored it. Or seemed to, anyway.

"And I need anybody who's got one to turn off their portable radios. Anything that can transmit or receive."

Eric, a man made distinctive by the enormous scar running down his cheek, piped up, looking worried. "Any particular reason?"

"Plenty, but I don't want to say anythin' just yet. Just playin' it safe. So without radios, we're gonna do the rest of this trip in pairs. Everybody pick a partner and stick to 'em. Butch Cassidy and Sundance, Riggs and Murtaugh…"

"Alyx and Freeman," Stephanie added.

That made Barney grin.

"The Magnusson!" Bob cheered, misunderstanding the exercise.

Only about three people found it amusing. Everybody else seemed to scowl at the reminder of who was waiting for them at White Forest.

"Get packin', people," Barney continued. "Got a long walk ahead of us."

He started to leave, and then stopped. "Uh… also… I need some volunteers to help ID and then, uh… bury the dead. If any of you guys knew 'em, I'd really appreciate you helpin' out. Even if you _didn't_, I'd appreciate it."

Looking like his shoulders were twice as heavy, their erstwhile caretaker headed off towards his rucksack and started doing just as he had ordered. Leading by example.

Kyle hadn't bothered to unpack any of his stuff since the attack had come to an end. And, looking around, Kyle saw that nobody else had, either. His gaze settled on the medics making their way around the camp, and he understood. Barney was giving them time to see to everyone.

"Hey, Mr Worf," Ray said. "You want to pair with me?"

"Bob!" Barney called. "You're with me!"

The Vort nodded, then looked to Ray. He shrugged and, with what passed for a smile, waved goodbye before jerkily running over to Barney.

"Did Mr Worf just ditch me?"

"You named him after a Klingon," Kyle admonished.

"A really noble Klingon!"

"Besides," Ray grunted, shifting about uncomfortably on the floor, "you're supposed to be helping me get around."

Ray sighed in acceptance. "Yeah, I know. But you're heavy! How do you get that fat eating Combine rations?"

"Hey, that's pure muscle you're talking about," Kyle replied, posing like a body-builder.

And, of course, that was the moment June Wicker chose to suddenly appear over Kyle, hand on her hip while she looked down at him with a smile that was both amused and embarrassed.

"Lookin' good, buddy."

Deciding that the least embarrassing course of action was to just run with it, Kyle smiled and nodded. "Yeah, well, if you've got it…"

The cutest giggle imaginable echoed over, and Kyle spotted Stephanie smiling at him. When she saw him look over at her, she quickly got back to fiddling with her communications equipment, though he wasn't sure if she was actually doing anything or just pretending.

He made Stephanie laugh. He felt like the coolest kid in school.

Wicker, predictably, didn't notice. If she did, she was certainly doing her best to ruin the moment by crouching down next to him and moving her hands down his injured leg.

"How's it feelin'?" she asked, checking over the dressing. "Walkin' okay?"

"Yeah, uh…" He blinked Stephanie thoughts away and got back to the far less pleasant matter of the leg with the hole in it. "Yeah, sure. I mean, I'd love some painkillers or something, I'm not saying it doesn't hurt, but… I can keep on going."

"There's a trooper," she replied, clapping him on the arm. It sounded like a bit of a stock reply.

"Hey, uh… Wicker."

"June's fine."

That took him by surprise, but he managed to recover quickly. "June, cool. Can I ask you something?"

"Depends what it is."

"Ominous."

She smiled. "Just ask me, you nosy bastard."

"No, it's nothing… I mean, you don't have to tell me, you can tell me to fuck off and mind my own business if you like."

"Okay…"

"Why don't you like Barney? I mean, I, uh… he's… nice…"

Wicker stared at him, and he so desperately wanted to shrink into a microscopic little ball and die. Or, failing that, at least find the strength to break away from her unflinching glare.

Mercifully, she spoke. "Kyle?"

"…yeah?"

"Mind your own business."

With an abruptness that made Kyle flinch, Wicker was on her feet. She turned on her heel and strode off to see to her other patients.

Ray waved to her retreating form, and then stared off into the distance, leaving himself and Kyle in a horrific silence for what felt like, oh, a day or so.

Then, finally, he said, "Well, she didn't tell you to fuck off."

"Oaaagh God…" Kyle groaned, burying his head in his hands. "What the hell is wrong with me? Why would I… what the hell?!"

Ray just shook his head, open mouthed. "…honestly don't know what to tell you. There are literally no words."

The next hour or so passed incredibly slowly, and Kyle couldn't help but watch in morbid curiosity as Barney and a whole squad of volunteers, Ray included, dug makeshift graves for the dead. Kyle didn't know if any of them were friends with the deceased. But then, he guessed it didn't matter.

He liked to think that if his leg wasn't busted he would have helped. But the way his stomach churned when he saw the bodies and look on the faces of those carrying them…

Well, he liked to _think_ he would have helped.

His gaze travelled over the rest of the camp as the volunteers finished heaving dirt onto their comrades with their bare hands. Boris, the skinny guy who had helped him out of the train, wasn't helping. Instead, he was curled up in a ball, his back to a tree while he fiddled with what looked like an ice pick. He was just… staring at the burial. But not in the curious way Kyle was. It was like… intense. Really intense.

There was a minute of silence once the burial was over, and the moment it was over there was a flurry of activity as everybody picked up their bags, collected their belongings and waited for the go ahead from Barney.

He didn't really give an official signal. Instead, he just turned around and started walking, Bob strolling alongside.

With a sigh, Ray helped Kyle to his feet and put an arm over his shoulder. Kyle started hobbling. Looking around the area, he spotted those who had been injured in the Hunter attacks in a similar state of disability, and it actually made him feel better. At least he wasn't the one holding everybody up anymore.

And then he felt horrible for thinking that in the first place.

They went along like that for some time, Bob occasionally raising a hand to signal everybody to stop. He would go through the same routine every time. Tilt his head to the left, then the right. Kyle would hear the faintest grumbling of a Vortigaunt chant, Bob would lower his hand, and then they would be off again.

Kyle couldn't help but notice that Barney seemed less tense having Bob around. Kyle had only known Barney on and off for a year and a bit, but from what he had seen the guy always seemed on edge. Sure, he would hide it behind jokes and a lazy demeanour, but whenever Kyle talked to him he could tell that Barney was always keeping one ear on their conversation and the other on the surrounding area.

Having Bob around, a creature who had perceptions far beyond his, probably left Barney feeling like he was off the hook, at least in terms of keeping an eye out for any threats.

It wasn't too much longer (time seemed to lose all meaning out here) before they came across a shack in the middle of nowhere, nestled beneath a group of trees.

When the lambda symbol spray painted on the front became visible, a loud sigh of relief spread across the entire group. With a smile that made him look as happy as Kyle felt, Barney held up his hand.

"Take five, people, we've got some supplies to grab."

After placing Kyle beside a tree, Ray rushed off to join the rest of the group as they herded around the shack. A small worry rose up in him while he leant against the tree patiently. What if there wasn't any med kits? What if there were and no-one wanted to share? Or if the medics decided he wasn't a priority? What if they all decided they hated him and-

"Hey, Kyle!" He blinked and looked over to the shack. It was Wicker, holding a med kit above her head with a smile. "Your lucky day."

Kyle waved back, grinning. As Wicker made her way over, Kyle looked down at the wound on his leg.

_Thought you had me beaten, didn't you? Well, screw you, leg! I'm gonna dance my way to White Forest just to show you how wrong you were._

Wicker was moving with a purpose, and ripped the vial of green liquid from the med kit as she strode over to him, shaking it like a can of spray paint.

"Should I, uh…" he pointed down to the ground unsurely.

"Nah, be better if you stay stood up."

With a speed that forced a tiny squeak from him, Wicker jumped down into a squatting position in front of him.

He didn't really have time to think about anything before Wicker popped off the rubber lid over the needle end of the vial and jammed it into the wound through the dressing.

A horrible flash of pain went through his thigh, and he clenched his teeth.

"Momma."

He was loosely aware of Wicker pushing a button on the other end of the vial with her thumb.

"Nearly finished," Wicker said quietly, actually managing to sound quite soothing.

All _he_ could manage was a quick nod as he blew out slowly. Then, abruptly, the pain subsided. Eyes closed and grinning like an idiot, Kyle groaned.

When he opened his eyes, he noticed Ray a couple of feet behind Wicker, staring at the position Kyle and Wicker were in and his face an embarrassing mix of amazement and amusement. Though it was more the latter than the former.

Just like that, Wicker was done, and hopped to her feet. She tossed the vial up in the air and caught it, looking incredibly pleased with herself.

"Always feels good to do that."

"Yeah it does," Ray said in a deep voice, nodding his head.

Wicker didn't even turn around. "Cram it, Ray." She focused on Kyle. "Okay, so as crazy as this sounds, you need to get walkin'. Faster you get the circulation goin', sooner this miracle stuff can do its work."

"Right, okay, uh… so is that all the dosage I need, or should I come back later on?"

"This should do in a pinch, long as you don't go sprintin' or hikin' up mountains. Try not to stretch it too much."

"Sure, okay."

Someone from the shack called out her name, and Wicker waved to whoever it was before turning back to Kyle. "Doctor's work is never done. Sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, fine. Um… sorry… about before, you know, I didn't mean to-"

"Ah, don't worry about it. I got to stab you in the leg just now, and I'm bettin' the pain you felt in that moment is like none you've felt before, right?"

"Right."

"So we're even. Hooray, yippee-doo-dah-day. See ya later." After giving a little salute to Kyle, she turned and headed back to the shack. Without missing a beat, she pointed a finger in Ray's face, silencing any comments that were no doubt coming her way.

"I wasn't gonna say anything," he said defensively. He strode over to Kyle, pressing a small foil-wrapped object into his chest.

"Treasure, m'lad."

"Please don't-"

"Yarr."

"And you did it."

"Ration packs galore, my friend. We are going to feast tonight!"

His stomach growled accordingly, and Kyle opened his ration stick and sank his teeth in.

_Mmmm… the sweet taste of nothing. Tough, chewy nothing._

"Anyway," Ray continued, sounding reluctant, "Barney… sort of asked if we would be okay to take the first patrol."

"What?" Kyle said, his voice muffled by a mouthful of ration bar. "What about my leg?"

"Hey, you heard Wicker. More you move it, the better it'll get."

Kyle sighed exasperatedly, looking up at the sky. "But I don't _want _to walk into the stupid forest…"

"Come on, sooner we go, sooner it'll be over."

"I guess…"

Pushing off from the tree, Kyle took a step, only to very nearly topple right over. Ray was by his side in an instant, but Kyle waved him off.

"Maybe a little slower," he mumbled to himself, though he noticed Ray nodding in agreement out of the corner of his eye.

The next couple of steps were easier. And, before long, Kyle was strolling at a pretty regular pace through the forest. Ray was still noticeably slowing his pace to stay even with him, but still. It was better than hopping along with the occasional sensation of hot burning agony shooting through his leg.

They walked in a small circle around the camp before increasing the size of the circle on every lap. At first they went along in amiable silence; Ray seemed to appreciate that Kyle's attention was first and foremost on his leg. After the fourth circle around the camp, however, Kyle managed to put his leg-concern on the backburner.

"So. How are _you _doing?" Kyle asked.

"Huh?"

"Well, you know, up 'til now it's all been 'my leg, my leg'. So, yeah, haven't had a chance to ask."

"Oh…" Ray shrugged. "Okay, y'know."

"Still. Feels good, don't you think? To be… doing something."

Ray stopped to crush a particularly crunchy leaf. "We're always doing something."

"Well, yeah, but since the Nova Prospekt explosion… I feel like we've really started to make progress. It's like the whole planet's been on pause for twenty years, and then suddenly… boom."

"I guess."

"…you don't think so?"

"I dunno. Sometimes these things seem like they're going somewhere… and then they just stop. I mean, I was part of the resistance in City 15 for years. They were planning an uprising for so long, and they believed it _so much_. That's how they managed to recruit so many people; just… pure self-belief. They had everything planned out to within an inch of its life, and they still ended up…"

He kicked a bunch of twigs. "Well, it didn't end well. And that was with a plan. Ever since Freeman came back, it's like we've been making things up as we went along."

"Well… we have."

"Exactly. How long do you think we can last using tactics like that?"

"Well, y'know, Freeman did blow up Nova Prospekt. And he blew up the Citadel, which killed Breen. Now stuff's happening at White Forest that's gonna…"

Ray looked at him expectantly.

"…well, I don't know what they're gonna do at White Forest. But Freeman and Alyx were talking about something pretty important with Barney. I think they've got something that they're taking to White Forest."

"Yeah, well, that's a nice theory, but… I don't know." He glanced at Kyle, and sighed. "Sorry. I know, I know, optimism."

"Yeah, come on, man. What would Captain Picard say about that attitude?"

That managed to elicit a laugh from Ray, which in turn made Kyle smile. Ray was usually the chirpy, wisecracking one. When he started to get pessimistic, that was when Kyle felt like it was really hitting the fan.

Something caught Ray's eye, and he stopped walking. "What _is _that?"

Following Ray's gaze, Kyle saw a mound of… something coming out of the ground in the distance. It was a pale grey colour, whatever it was. With a wary glance at each other, they slowly made their way over.

As they approached, Kyle could see that it wasn't a mound; it was a pit. A pit with a faint green glow emanating from within. They both nudged their rifles from their shoulders and paced around to either side of the pit.

A shrill purr echoed up from the pit, and Kyle couldn't help the slight look of panic that crossed his features. He looked at Ray and glanced down, indicating that he should check it out. Scowling, Ray shook his head and mirrored the gesture.

Kyle also shook his head and nodded to the pit. Ray nodded back. This went on for some time until Ray screwed up his face like he wanted to curse loudly and pointed a finger at Kyle.

Then, he blew out a calming breath. "Okay, fine. I'll do it."

Slowly, his breathing shallow, Ray edged forward rifle first. The pain in Kyle's leg re-emerged while he waited to shoot whatever horrible thing that might leap out of the pit and attempt to latch on to Ray's face.

His paranoia seemed unfounded, however, when Ray's incredibly tense expression softened, and he smiled.

"Grubs."

"Grubs?"

"Ant-lion grubs."

"Wait, whoa… does that mean ant-lions? Here?"

Ray scratched his neck, looking around the immediate area. "Maybe. Not sure."

"What should we do? Is there a procedure for ant-lion… things?"

This seemed to amuse Ray no end, judging by his smile. "No, no procedure. Have you not seen ant-lions before?"

"I… heard some when we were making our way out of City 17, but… no. Never actually _seen _one, no."

"Ah." He looked back down at the pit. "We should go and fetch Barney. He'll want to know if there are ant-lions around."

"Okay. Yeah, good idea. Barney," Kyle nodded, heading back the way they came. He stopped abruptly. "Shouldn't someone stay here? To make sure nothing comes up? And to make it easier for the other person to find their way back?"

After a moment's thought, Ray nodded. "Yeah. Someone should."

There was a long moment of silence.

Kyle sighed. "I'll do it."

Ray grinned and slapped Kyle on the arm. "There's a champ."

With those words of inspiration, Ray trudged off, leaving Kyle to stare down at the pit.

"Hey, wait, uh… is there some special trick to dealing with ant-lions?"

His departing comrade turned on the spot, continuing to walk backwards as he spoke. "Shoot 'em."

"Oh, great, thanks. You're a regular Cubbage."

Smiling, Ray gave him a thumbs up. He turned on his heel and continued walking, but then something occurred to him and he stopped abruptly, glaring back at Kyle.

"Wait… you think Cubbage is an idiot!"

"Look, just," Kyle waved his hand in the air, shooing Ray away, "Go, will you?"

After shooting a squinty glare at him, Ray conceded and disappeared into the woods, leaving Kyle on watch. Again.

He paced around to keep his leg busy, but also to occupy his mind. It was a habit he had adopted after many hours of doing this kind of work. He continued like this for about twenty minutes before stopping and letting out a weary sigh.

Kyle was always on watch. Since his induction into the Resistance, he had been put on watch. Sure, everybody had to do it at some time or another, but it always felt like his time spent on watch was disproportionately longer than anyone else's. Maybe it was his big eyes - people assumed he would be able to see more or something. Whatever. All Kyle knew was that, by now, he was well and truly sick of standing around watching.

Which was probably why fate decided to make the ground shake beneath his feet just as the thought crossed his mind.

Great spurts of dust and mud exploded around him, and Kyle backed up as quickly as he could manage. Unfortunately the mud geysers seemed to be all around him, and the best he could manage was putting his back to a tree.

Strong, thin claws sprouted out from the holes in the ground, and several waist-height beasts that Kyle could only assume were ant-lions clambered up. They took a collective moment to take in their surroundings before simultaneously noting his presence.

"Crap."

They charged, and with a war cry he didn't know he was capable of, Kyle opened fire.

Now, his hand-eye co-ordination had never been anything to write home about. At all. Most of his time with the Resistance had been spent on target practice and Ray laughing at how, in his words, 'hilariously bad' he was.

Kyle hadn't found it so hilarious. Not out of any pride - being good with a gun wasn't something Kyle felt someone could or should be proud of - but because he was terrified of hitting someone by accident. What if someone shouted 'cover me' and jumped out into the open only to get a bullet in the ass, courtesy of their good friend Kyle Danvers?

He bet Ray wouldn't find it so hilarious then.

Luckily no-one had asked him to cover them during the uprising, or the subsequent escape from City 17. He had just been running along with everybody else, firing at anything with a mask on, and rarely hitting his intended target.

So it was liberating (in a terrifying 'I could die at any moment' sort of way) to be able to fire point-blank in all directions and be guaranteed to hit a hostile target.

His pulse rifle demolished the surprisingly soft flesh of the ant-lions, creating a cloud of yellow blood around him as more and more of them tunnelled out of the ground and charged at him. He really wanted to crouch down to protect his leg, but trying even to squat caused a surge of pain that he never wanted to repeat in his life.

That said, Kyle thought he was doing okay. At this rate, he reckoned he'd be able to survive until the ant-lions gave up or Ray got back with reinforcements.

And then his rifle ran out of ammunition.

And then an ant-lion flew at him from the right. It slammed headlong into him, throwing him to the ground and his empty rifle even further. The ant-lions swarmed around him, seemingly taking time to relish their moment of victory.

Kyle clenched his eyes shut. At least he had the consolation of knowing he successfully shot something during his time with the Resistance.

It didn't make him feel any better.

* * *

(A/N: Hey, thanks for all the reviews, everybody! Please keep them up!)


	5. Turning Points

Disclaimer: I don't own _Half-Life._

_**One Long Shift**_

_**Chapter Four: Turning Points**_

Barney sometimes wondered how members of the Resistance would react if they knew the thoughts that occasionally flitted through his mind. Not the depressing, 'Oh my God we're DOOMED' thoughts - to be honest, it was more disturbing to find someone who _didn't _have those thoughts now and again.

Not even thoughts about relevant things, like 'How do the Combine know where they are?'.

No, he meant the thoughts like 'I have an itch on my groin area, how do I scratch it while keeping my dignity?'. Those, ladies and gentlemen, were the _big _thoughts that occupied the great Resistance leader Barney Calhoun as he stared off into the distance, trying to look like he was planning something.

He noted Bob in his peripheral vision, and he briefly wondered just how precise that Vortigaunt telepathy was. Did he know what he was thinking? Did he sympathise? Did Vorts even _get _itchy? He'd never seen one scratch itself. But then their skin had this constant oily sheen to it. Nothing to irritate it enough to get itchy in the first place.

Did Gordon have these problems? Damn magic HEV suit probably had a scratching device inside it. Or Alyx would scratch any itches he had.

Bow-chick-a-wow-wow.

He smiled and shook his head at his own stupid joke. Bob looked at him curiously, and seemed ready to make an enquiry when he noticed something and whipped his head to the right.

"The Ray returns."

Barney frowned. "The what?"

Following Bob's stare, he saw that Ray was returning at a leisurely pace from his patrol.

"Oh. The _Ray."_

"Indeed."

Hand on hip, Barney waved him over, and Ray broke into a light jog to get there a little quicker.

"What's up? Where's Kyle?"

"We found an ant-lion tunnel in the ground. More like a pit."

Barney exchanged a glance with Bob before addressing Ray. "It look like it could lead somewhere?"

A shrug was the reply.

His itchy thigh forgotten, Barney rubbed his eyes and thought for a moment. It was a very short moment.

"Okay, uh…" he snapped his fingers in the air as he tried to remember the woman's name. "…Richardson!"

The relevant rebel turned around at the mention of her name, looking halfway between curious and terrified.

"I'm gonna check somethin' out with Ray and Bob. Shouldn't take too long. You're in charge 'til I get back."

The group of friends sat gathered around her groaned, and she thrust two pointing fingers into the air before whirling on the spot and gloating accordingly.

"Yes! Power, bitches!"

"_That_'s gonna come back to haunt me…" Barney muttered, scooping up his pulse rifle and checking it over before waving grandly to Ray. "Take us to your… hole in the ground."

"Aye sir," he replied in a deep voice before setting off.

Barney groaned as he followed, Bob by his side. "Stop with the 'sir's, you Trekkie freak…"

"Well, Bob seems to appreciate the Trek references."

Taken aback, Barney looked at the Vort. "You do?"

It was the first time Barney had even seen a confused Vortigaunt. "I am… uncertain what is happening. Trek? Do you refer to the trek we are now undertaking to the ant-lion tunnel?"

"Never mind," Barney said, pointedly glaring at Ray, who looked _very _ready to explain. "You've got a real-life alien here, why are you confusin' him with stories about made up ones?"

Sulking a little, Ray shrugged and looked down to the ground. "They're good stories…"

They went the majority of the journey in relative silence, which suited Barney just fine. Now he was in a smaller group, the hairs on the back of his neck were standing up so tight they could have sprang off from the tension. Even though one of them was a Vort, there was still only so much they could do if a squad of Combine soldiers descended on them, let alone Hunters or Striders.

So it was good to be able to hear clearly and not have to listen to Ray talk about stuff that happened on the Starship Enterprise.

It made hearing the gunshots in the distance so much easier, too. All three of them spared about half a second to look at each other before they started sprinting. Luckily, Ray was a very fast runner, so Barney didn't have to slow his pace to follow him. Bob was another matter - he was probably going at about a third of his top speed.

Once they caught sight of Kyle in the distance, Bob took off, overtaking them as though they were standing still. Barney kept on running as he watched one of the ant-lions charge at Kyle from the side, knocking him on his back. The ant-lions gathered around him.

Bob was already growling and throwing his hands forward as Barney and Ray skid to a halt beside him. They watched as green electricity blasted out from the Vort's fingers, hitting one ant-lion and instantaneously lancing out to the others. The electrified little buggers leapt into the air and landed on their backs, kicking their legs around helplessly.

Without any prompting, Barney and Ray got to work blasting the ant-lions into little green pieces. The bullets tore them apart easily. Barney charged over to a recovering ant-lion beside Kyle and stamped an angry boot down on it, holding it in place while he opened fire point blank.

Quiet descended, and Kyle, who had sensibly tucked his head down under his arms, slowly emerged, his head whipping back and forth at the carnage wrought around him.

"…all dead! Good, good. I was… looking forward to them being dead."

With a laugh and a shake of the head, Barney offered a hand, which Kyle gladly took. With a grunt of effort, Barney pulled him to his feet and nodded at him questioningly. Kyle nodded back, breathing out shakily.

"Never… seen them before. They're pretty scary."

Shrugging, Barney looked around the area. "No worse than Dr Kleiner when he's hungry…"

His eyes fell on the hole in the ground, and, keeping a wary eye (and ear) on the ground around him, he made his way over. Bob was by his side in an instant, poking his head over the mouth of the pit with an endearing lack of caution.

"I believe we have exhausted their immediate number. Their majority is currently occupied elsewhere."

Barney cocked an eyebrow at the Vort. "Gordon?"

"Indeed."

"Well, let's hope he keeps 'em distracted long enough for us to take a look around. You think this could be a shortcut?"

"Such a theory is worth investigation, is it not?"

Barney snapped his fingers as best he could with the black CP gloves on, and pointed an affirmative digit at Bob. "Correct."

He hopped to his feet and looked to Ray and Kyle. "Okay, you guys make your way back to the camp and tell 'em that me and Bob are gonna look for a shortcut."

"Uh…" Kyle raised a questioning finger. "Is this shortcut going to be dangerous?"

"Maybe," Barney shrugged. "But most of the ant-lions are occupied with whatever explosions and loud noises Gordon's makin' somewhere else. And even if they weren't, I'd rather have ant-lions than Hunters and Striders and advice… bureau…"

"Advisors," Bob offered helpfully.

"That, yeah. Anyway, tell 'em what's goin' on and then come straight back. Wait half an hour. We'll leave a trail of crushed ant-lion grubs as we go. If it's a shortcut that works, we'll send you a signal."

"What signal?" Ray asked.

Without answering, Barney covered his ears and watched Bob cup his hands around his mouth. The loud Vortigaunt call bellowed out, making both Ray and Kyle grimace in pain.

Ears clearly still ringing, Ray scowled at Barney. "You know, it would have been easier to just tell us."

"Easier, not funnier," Barney corrected. "Now go on, get goin'."

Ray nodded and made to leave, but Kyle, looking like the worried mother-hen he was destined to grow up to be, put a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

"Hey, whoa, wait. What if you don't come back?"

Barney shrugged. "Keep goin'."

With those inspirational words of wisdom, Barney sat down on the lip of the pit and prepared to drop down. He looked back to Ray and Kyle, who still weren't going.

"Get movin', people. To paraphrase a scientist I met once, 'I'll see you on the other side!'"

He slid off the edge of the pit and dropped down inside. The hard yet squishy material that made up the tunnel crunched beneath his feet as he landed. It only went in one direction, and he got down on his hands and knees to get out of Bob's way. After crawling far enough, he frowned. He couldn't hear anything from behind him.

On edge, he slowly turned.

"Is there reason for delay?" a loud voice growled, and Barney banged his head on the roof of the tunnel in surprise. Luckily for him, the tunnel wasn't particularly hard.

"No, Bob, no, I just… damn, you're quiet."

"Such stealth is to this one's credit."

"Damn right it is," he mumbled, continuing on his awkward, shuffling journey.

They crawled like that for some time before the tunnel opened up into a huge cavern. The light from the ant-lion grubs dotted around the place gave it a magical feeling - like some kind of Christmas decorations. Crushing them to create a trail for the others to follow was an oddly satisfying experience. A makeshift path presented itself to them, branching out of the cave wall on their right. Didn't look particularly flat, though. A bit more of a ramp, really.

He cast a worried look down at his shiny CP boots. The ones with very little grip to them. Although he did note that the slanted portion of the path levelled out after about ten feet and then became a perilous rocky bridge to take them across to the other side of the chasm… so maybe he would be able to rush his way across the slide-y portion of his journey.

In the time it took him to think about this, Bob had overtaken him and was halfway across the bridge.

"Come, Calhoun! The Freeman must surely be creating a great disturbance to attract the ant-lions so!"

Barney nodded and waved a hand in the air. "I'm comin', I'm comin'…"

He placed a boot on the slanted rock. It stayed in place, but still felt perilously slippery.

"Screw it."

He sprinted across, his feet only touching the smooth rock twice before he was on solid, level ground again. With that bit of drama over with, Barney followed Bob across the chasm, taking them into a tunnel that was cramped, but was by no means the crawling nightmare they had been in before.

Though Barney liked to think he had a good sense of direction, he could easily admit that he had no idea how their location in the tunnels related to the woodland up above. Bob seemed to be happily jogging along, however, so Barney took that to mean that the Vort knew what was what.

But just in case…

"You, uh… know where you're going, right?"

Bob looked back at him, looking as insulted as a Vort possibly could. He pointed a spindly digit to his right.

"White Forest."

Barney put his hands up in surrender. "Okay, sorry, sorry… lead on."

Satisfied, Bob nodded, thrusting a fist into the air. "Lead on!"

The Vort sprinted off at a rate that left Barney staring after him with wide eyes. He had no idea they could run that fast. Barney followed along, only just managing to keep sight of the jolly alien as he zoomed through the tunnels and caverns.

It went on like this for a good twenty minutes. And, remarkably, they only came across about a dozen ant-lions. Some of them were of the acid spitting variety, which scared the shit out of him the first time, as he was focused on a group of ant-lions that Bob had disabled. Being tackled to the ground by a Vortigaunt was a surprisingly solid affair, considering how thin they were. But then they were pretty much one hundred percent muscle.

But, other than those tiny, only slightly life threatening obstacles, they clambered up a steady incline and out into the open again. The woodland area in front of him didn't seem that much different than what he had left behind.

"Was this…a good shortcut, or one of those stupid ones?"

By way of an answer, Bob tapped him on the shoulder and pointed behind them. The tunnel they had emerged from was beside a road. An honest to God road. His boots crunching on the twigs and leaves, Barney strode up out of the forest and onto the solid ground. It was… oddly refreshing to step on something that didn't give beneath his feet.

The portal quietly churned away in the distance, the swirling blue vortex soothingly hypnotic. He checked up and down the road. All clear. For the moment, anyway. Eyes settling on the portal again, he tilted his head in Bob's direction.

"So… definitely shorter."

"Indeed."

"And nobody around that you can tell?"

The Vort turned his head one way, then back again, listening and watching for any approaching hostiles.

"Indeed…"

Barney held his rifle tighter.

"…not."

Relieved, he let out a breath, shaking his head. "Okay," he grunted, plonking himself by the roadside, "send the signal."

Nodding happily, Bob moved to the tunnel and cupped his hands around his mouth. Before he could even take a breath, however, the light coming from the portal intensified until Barney was closing his eyes to keep it out. When the light subsided, Barney cautiously opened one eye.

A wall of portal energy rolled towards them across the landscape.

"Crap…" he sighed.

The wave hit him full on, rolling him onto his back with his legs in the air. Bob, however, was on hand to help, spindly fingers wrapped around Barney's ankle. With a little push, he got Barney upright again.

"Thanks," he said gratefully, brushing away the dust and twigs that had been kicked all over him by the wave. "Hate those things."

"This one can sympathise," Bob said, the heaviness in his voice indicating some horrible experience that Barney, quite frankly, didn't want to know about. Vorts were some of the most quietly optimistic people Barney had ever come across, so anything that got to them had to be pretty damn horrific.

So, yeah. He didn't want to know.

He cleared his throat. "Okay, so. Signal."

"Of course," Bob growled, moving back to the tunnel.

Barney covered his ears as the odd vibrations from the Vort's call shook through him. He shook his head once Bob was done, using his hand to flatten out the hairs that were standing to attention on the back of his neck.

Another Vortigaunt call echoed through the air, but from much further away. He looked to Bob curiously, who had an expression of similar surprise.

Sighing, Barney covered his ears while Bob had a full blown conversation. After exchanging about five messages, Bob sauntered over and sat down cross-legged beside him in a position that a yoga master would envy.

"So… what's up?" he asked, taking out his water canteen and unscrewing the lid.

"My kin shall be joining us shortly. They have assisted the Freeman and the Alyx Vance, and are now occupied with their next priority; the location and destruction of Advisors yet unhatched."

He let out a breath of relief, feeling a tension leave him that he hadn't been conscious of carrying until this very moment. "So Alyx is okay?"

"Indeed."

Barney drank from his canteen as Bob continued.

"The Freeman's essence is now within her, giving her strength."

A coughing fit overcame Barney. "W…" he coughed again, and slammed a fist into his chest. "_What?"_

"The Freeman and the Alyx Vance have partaken in a communion most intimate."

"I, w… Gordon and Alyx? How- I mean, what? How do you… wait, not sure I want to know."

They sat in silence for precisely a second.

"No, sorry, I gotta… Gordon and Alyx… with the essence, and… they found time to… how do you know?"

"My kin were present for the ceremony."

"I… _what? _There was a ceremony?!"

"Their presence was necessary for the procedure to take place."

"_Procedure? _I mean, I know Gordon's a scientist, but that's a little… clinical…" He was at such a loss for words, it was unlike anything he had ever been through before. "Okay, so… wait, Alyx was injured…"

Realisation dawned.

"Procedure… this is some Vortigaunt medical thing, isn't it?"

Bob nodded sagely. "Through the use of the vaunted ant-lion extract, my kin weaved the Freeman's life with that of the Alyx Vance, strengthening a bond that already was almost… Vortal in its strength."

A massive breath escaped him, and he managed a laugh as he shook his head. "I thought you meant… okay, that makes more sense. Not that Gordon and Alyx wouldn't, I mean, I'm fairly sure it's gonna happen, but… damn, that would have been inappropriate timing, them bein' on a mission and Alyx bein' mortally wounded and all. I mean, you get where I'm comin' from, right?"

"Yes."

Surprised, Barney looked at him. "Really?"

A blank red eye stared back at him. "…no."

"Okay," Barney grunted, shifting around to get his rear-end comfortable before reclining back. "You good to take first watch?"

"Just so, Calhoun."

With one last, quiet snort of laughter, Barney closed his eyes and rested his head on his hands. God damn, that felt good.

* * *

"_I feel horrible."_

_Alyx looked up at him incredulously from her seat. "You feel horrible? Imagine how she's doing," she said, using her in-progress laser pointer to gesture to the door._

_As if in response, Wicker let out a loud groan from within._

"_Should I be in there? I should be in there." He walked to the door with hand outstretched for the handle… and then whirled on his heel, heading to the wall opposite the door. Folding his arms, he rested back against it._

"_Barney, relax," Alyx said quietly, concentrating on screwing something in on the laser pointer._

"_I can't relax. This is the first baby born in… well, in a long time. That's history or something, right? Shouldn't we be in there to witness it for… history?"_

_Alyx gave him a withering look between screws._

"…_or something?"_

_She sighed, and stopped screwing. "Barney, Wicker didn't want you in there. Magnusson didn't want you in there. So that's both the woman giving birth and the doctor delivering the baby not wanting you in there. So. What have we learned?"_

_He bowed his head, kicking at the floor. "…don't go in there."_

"_Don't go in there," she said calmly, returning to her laser pointer with assured gusto._

_Magnusson's less than gentle voice echoed out, muffled by the door. "You're doing well, not to worry."_

"_Say that again and I will crush your head with my ankles!" Wicker cried back._

_This prompted a shared smile between Barney and Alyx. _

"_She's a witty one," he said, an element of pride in his voice that he couldn't help. He had gotten to know Wicker pretty well since she had dive-bombed into his life and wrecked the place._

"_Reminds me of you a bit," Alyx said._

"_Yeah?"_

"_Yeah."_

"_Well, you know… imitation, flattery, that whole thing."_

_They sat in silence for a moment, staring at the wall. Then Wicker groaned again, and Alyx abruptly went back to her laser pointer._

"_Can't believe Magnusson's the only guy who knows how to do this," Barney mumbled._

"_Only guy we could find. I'm sure there are other people in the world somewhere who could have done it."_

"_Yeah, yeah, but… Magnusson? I mean, would you want him as a doctor?"_

_Alyx didn't reply at first, keeping her eyes locked on the work going on in her hands. "I don't know, I mean… anyone who knew what they were doing…"_

_All Barney could manage was a disbelieving frown. "What? C'mon, seriously? I-"_

_Realisation smacked him in the face._

"_Sorry, I didn't think. I just…" he shook his head at his own ignorance. "You've never been around a birth, have you?"_

"_Well… I was travelling all over the place with my dad and Dr Kleiner for years, and then by the time we settled the suppression field was up…"_

_She took that moment to look up at him. "So, no."_

"_And you don't want to be in there?"_

"_To what," she snorted, "Watch? No thanks. To be honest, it scares the shit out of me."_

"_Yeah, but… don't you think that… someday, y'know… you might…"_

"_You shush, Barney Calhoun," she said, pointing a warning screwdriver in his direction._

"_But someday the suppression field might be gone, and then-"_

"_I said shush."_

"_Okay, okay…" He looked away from Alyx down the corridor, and commenced singing 'Rock-a-Bye Baby' under his breath._

_He got solid thump in the arm for that one. _

_They went back to companionable silence, though there was a healthy serving of nervousness in the air as well._

"_I hope she'll be okay."_

"_What? She'll be fine. Women give birth all the time. I mean, they used to."_

"_No, but…" She sighed, and set down her work with the laser pointer. "I know he didn't mean to, but… the way Dr Kleiner looked at her when we first told him… it was like he was looking at a scientific miracle."_

"_Well… he was."_

"_I know that, but… still, I wish Dr Kleiner hadn't instantly started talking about the 'opportunity to repopulate the species' in front of her. Like she was some kind of… breeding animal."_

_He winced. "Oh, hey, come on. You know that wasn't even remotely on his mind."_

"_I know," she sighed._

"_And besides," he said, shifting about on his chair, "once the baby's born, there's probably a lot Kleiner and the other big brains can learn from him. Or her. Not that they'll be running tests on the kid twenty four seven."_

"_I guess." _

"_And… yeah, I know Wicker's one in a million, but… how do we know there aren't other women that are immune? How do all the other women know they're not?"_

"_We know, Barney."_

"_Well, yeah, motherly intuition or whatever-"_

"_No, Barney, trust me, women know."_

"_But is there a test or something?"_

_Alyx laughed and nodded. "Oh yeah, there's a test."_

"_There… is? What is it?"_

_She hit him with a patient, amused look that reminded him far too much of Lauren when he was being ridiculously clueless about something. He stopped for a moment to put the pieces together. _

_Then it hit. _

"_Oh…"_

"_Yeah."_

"_You mean-"_

"_Yep."_

_Something else hit him. With an almost accusatory tone and a gasp bordering on theatrical, he pointed at Alyx. "So you…" _

_He watched Alyx's cheeks redden considerably before she quickly got back to work._

"_Well, I'll be damned," he said smugly, grinning from ear to ear. "Little Miss Vance is all grown up."_

"_If you tell my father, I will kill you with the help of this laser pointer I've been making for my gun." To emphasise the point, she switched on the device and pointed the beam down the corridor._

_Barney looked to red dot wobbling against the door at the end of the corridor. "You know, you wouldn't even need that if your aim wasn't so crappy."_

"_Do you like being hit by me? Is that a thing you enjoy?"_

_Laughing, Barney was about to reply when he heard a noise coming from inside the room. It was inexplicable. Suddenly, all his nervousness was gone, replaced by a wonderful contentment. Looking over to Alyx, he saw that all of his anxiety seemed to have transferred to her._

_She stared at him, a mixture of fear and wonder in her eyes. "Is that…?"_

_Smiling, he nodded. "One of the most beautiful sounds on this Earth. And we're the first people to hear it in nearly twenty years."_

_Wicker's baby continued to cry out, and Barney could hear both Wicker and Magnusson laughing at the magnificence of it all._

_Unable to dampen his grin, he pointed a thumb over his shoulder at the door._

"_History."_

* * *

(A/N: Thanks for all the reviews, everybody, they're always much appreciated. That doesn't mean you should stop, mind. Keep going, I need more.)


	6. On the Road Again

Disclaimer: I don't own _Half-Life._

_**One Long Shift**_

_**Chapter Five: On the Road Again**_

Kyle's knowledge of alien landscapes was kind of bare. He had heard some stories about the 'Border World' and some pretty horrible accounts of the Combine home-world from the Vorts, but… nothing concrete.

So it kind of went without saying that the inside of an ant-lion tunnel was a new experience for him. And he was completely unprepared for the weird texture of the walls and the echoing buzzing of ant-lion wings. Pretty unnerving, that last one. But being surrounded by roughly thirty other people made it easier.

It didn't take them long to navigate their way through, for which Kyle was grateful. He couldn't be sure, but he always suspected that he was a little bit claustrophobic. Nothing major - he had to live in some pretty cramped conditions under Combine rule, after all - but it was always there, tickling away at the back of his mind when he was hiding out in a room with ten other people crammed around him. Travelling through the forest left him feeling liberated in a way.

So, that said, when the end of the 'shortcut' became apparent in the distance, he was maybe a little rude as he shoved past those ahead of him to get out into the open. He thrust his head up to sky and took several deep breaths before he was jostled aside by the others behind him that were emerging from the tunnel with equal vigour.

Checking around the area, Kyle saw Ray chatting to some of the others a few people behind. Wicker was beside the two who had been injured during the Hunter attack. He also spotted Boris, who had taken up a position far away from the others, squatting with his back to a tree and staring off into space.

Barney was stood on a road that was almost behind the tunnel opening, Bob faithfully by his side. They were both staring pretty intently up the road, as though waiting for something. Kyle hoped it was a friendly something.

Whatever it was, it wasn't forthcoming, and by the time everybody was out of the tunnel and accounted for, Barney waved for their attention, moving into the middle of the group.

"Okay, people, we're movin' out! Followin' the road most of the way, and then a little bit of off-road hiking before we reach White Forest." He took a moment to look at everybody, and Kyle could swear he saw him register every face. "We're nearly there, people. Let's just keep our heads down and get on with it."

"For freedom!" Bob cried out, fist in the air.

Everybody just stared at him. To his credit, the Vort didn't show any kind of embarrassment. He held the pose for a few more seconds before sauntering off down the road.

"Follow the Vort," Barney said amusedly, waving a hand towards their alien friend.

And just like that, they were off again. Kyle had barely put a foot on the smooth surface of the road before Ray appeared beside him.

"Did you enjoy the caves, sir?" he asked in a haughty, tour guide voice.

"Oh, very much so," Kyle replied with equal officiousness. "I shall be recommending it to my friends and family when I return home. The sights, the sounds, the smells… all as the brochure promised."

"We on the Ant-Lion Cave Maintenance board thank you."

They continued on for some time in virtual silence, and Kyle found himself mesmerised by the portal storm in the distance. It was hard to believe that was City 17. He had been there no more than, what? A day ago, give or take a couple of hours? Crazy.

He wondered how far out the portal storm spread. Could someone go back into City 17 if they wanted to? How far towards what used to be the Citadel could they get before they started to feel the effects?

Kyle shook the thoughts away. Pointless, and kind of terrifying. Which, in turn, made them more pointless. He checked around the group again. Though he would have liked to say it was just curiosity, he felt an unnerving tingle in his chest that compelled him to check that everybody was accounted for.

Not that he knew everybody. If someone _was _missing, he doubted that he'd know. But of the people he _did _know…

Ray was beside him, focusing on something on his right boot as he trudged along. Barney was ahead with Bob. The Vort said something that made Barney smile. That helped to relax Kyle somewhat. If Barney was smiling, it meant they were at least a _little _safe.

Wicker was with her patients, which was to be expected.

He couldn't see Boris, and he spent a long time searching the crowd for him until he spotted his gaunt, blankly serious face at the back of the group.

"You looking for someone?"

The chirpy voice caught him by surprise, and he whipped his head around to look at the source of the voice; Stephanie.

His own voice went a little chirpy as he tried to reply. "Oh, uh…" he cleared his throat, and deepened it accordingly. "I was just checking for people I knew."

"Oh. You find 'em all?"

He smiled nervously, pointing awkwardly at her. "I have now, yeah."

She laughed, and Kyle couldn't help his massive grin. Conscious of how Ray could ruin this for him, he glanced over at his best friend. He was a little preoccupied with whatever stain he had found on his boot, and hadn't noticed Kyle's new conversation partner.

To keep it that way, Kyle slowly managed to guide their path away from Ray as they talked.

"So, you're, uh… the communications… person?"

"Yup," she said happily, nodding to the massive hunk of equipment on her back.

"Isn't that heavy?"

"Incredibly. But it's okay, I can take it."

He shrugged. "Okay, I mean, I was gonna be all gentlemanly and offer to carry it for you, but if-"

Before he had even finished the sentence Stephanie was holding the communications unit in front of him.

With a genuine smile that felt incredibly good, Kyle took off his rucksack and traded with her.

"Wow," he grunted, slipping the two straps over his shoulders, "this _is _heavy."

"Yup."

"How did you carry it?"

"With great difficulty and powerful legs."

"Oh yeah?"

She nodded. "My buddies reckon I can kick a tree in half."

"I may ask you to prove that once we get to White Forest."

With a glint in her eye that made the lump in Kyle's throat swell, she smiled at him. "You got it."

He opened his mouth, found it was ridiculously dry, and closed it again in order to swallow. "So… are your friends here, or…?"

"Nah. They got one of the earlier trains. No idea where they are. Hopefully at White Forest."

"Well, the earlier trains would have been well out of range of the Citadel explosion. They'll probably be there waiting for you."

"That's the hope."

"And then they can confirm the whole 'kicking a tree in half' thing."

"Oh, hey, whoa, not sure if I'm ready to introduce you to my friends yet. Let's see how the first date goes."

A humiliating squeak was all he could manage at first. Then, with a small burst of courage, he managed, "Does watching you kick a tree in half count as a date? I have _some _standards, you know."

For a long moment that seemed to stretch to roughly _infinity_, she just stared at him. Then she giggled, and Kyle kind of sort of melted inside.

"Okay, okay, I'll take you out to dinner too. Ration packs for two."

"My favourite!" he mock gasped, truly beginning to feel comfortable. "How did you know?"

She tapped her nose. "A woman knows, buddy. I woman knows."

Kyle was so busy grinning like an idiot that he didn't notice that the guy in front of him had stopped until he was bumping into him.

"Sorry," he mumbled sheepishly, though the guy he bumped into wasn't paying any attention to him.

Instead, much like everybody else, he was staring intently forward. They were all focused on Bob's eerily still form, his fist in the air.

No-one spoke. No-one dared to. Kyle noticed that Stephanie wasn't even breathing. Then, in a movement that made the entire group jump, Bob whirled around, his red stare seemingly going through them to look at something far behind.

Others turned around to check, but Kyle couldn't bring himself to tear his eyes off the Vortigaunt.

"They come," Bob growled, pointing an ominous finger down the road.

"Oh crap," Ray muttered, his voice very distinct amongst the others.

Barney's face seemed to echo the sentiment, and he clapped his hands. "Okay, people, find some cover in the woods. Get as far in as you can, and keep quiet, for the love of God. Ray, no whoopee cushion."

Looking suitably crestfallen, Ray kicked the floor. "I wasn't gonna…"

With that, everybody herded off into the woods. Kyle tried his best to keep up with Stephanie, but she was much swifter on her feet than he was, especially with the…

His eyes widened, and he pointed at the communications rig on his back. "Uh, Stephanie, do you want the-"

She waved off his question. "Give it back later."

"So long as I've got an excuse to talk to you again."

"Not that you need one," she replied with a smile.

The distant thump of Hunter footsteps removed any and all smiles, and Kyle heard Barney hissing for everybody to find cover and stick to it.

Kyle did just that, splitting off from Stephanie and tucking himself down behind a tall outcropping of rock. Boris was there as well, back pressed to the stone and eyes as wide as they could possibly be. Which, considering their usual size, was pretty impressive.

Realising he was holding his breath, Kyle exhaled. "Hey, I, uh… wanted to thank you. For getting me out of the train, you know."

Boris didn't reply - his focus was firmly locked at the top of the rock, waiting for anything that might poke its head over. Then, gaze still fixed, Boris reached into his pocket and slowly pulled out a long, incredibly nasty looking ice pick.

His eyes abruptly as wide as Boris', Kyle stared at the distractingly pointy object.

"Oh, hey," he said, his voice ludicrously high. "What're you gonna do with that?"

_This _managed to finally get Boris' attention, and he stared at Kyle like he was an idiot. "I'm gonna kill somethin'."

"With… an ice pick?"

Ray chose that moment to blunder in, his backpack jostling noisily as he fell against the rock on the other side of Boris.

"Sorry, I-," he said, his head turning mid-sentence in time to see the ice pick. "Whoa, Basic Instinct! What the hell's that for?"

Looking irritated at having to repeat himself, Boris glared at thin air. "Killing things."

"With an _ice pick_? What the hell?"

"Ice picks can kill things," Boris said defensively.

"Yeah, but there are Hunters coming." Ray ducked his head down and nodded at Boris to ram the point home. "_Hunters."_

Boris shrugged. "I knew a guy who punched Hunters."

Amazed, Kyle double-glanced at Boris. "Really? Is that true? I heard about that, but I didn't think it was-"

Any further conversation was stifled by the distant thumping of Hunter footsteps. All three of them huddled down, ducking their heads as though that would somehow obscure them further. Judging by the huge amount of noise, Kyle guessed there were a _lot _of Hunters. He didn't know how many usually travelled in a pack of Hunters, but he wouldn't have been surprised if there was at least one descending on them.

The footsteps slowed as the Hunters passed their position. Unable to quiet their hooves, the slowly approaching Hunters made themselves known with every step.

And one was approaching them, moving gradually, like a dog sniffing out something particularly delicious. Geez, _dogs._ Kyle hadn't thought about those in years.

Nostalgia was abruptly shoved from his mind as a footstep came down with a teeth-juddering thud on the other side of their rock. Looking over, Kyle saw Boris' grip on the ice pick tighten. Eyes wide, he locked his gaze on Ray's and glanced down at the insane man's choice of weapon.

The Hunter took another cautious step.

Boris shifted his weight, looking like he was about to jump up. Kyle and Ray grabbed an arm each, both frantically shaking their heads at the now pretty outraged Boris. They struggled behind the rock as quietly as they could, and Kyle found a strength he didn't know he had as he yanked Boris down to the ground and managed to hold him there merely by pulling on his arm.

For a long, breathless moment, there was nothing. They didn't move, the Hunter didn't make a sound… just nothing. Combine radio chatter echoed from down the road. Through all the Hunter stomping, Kyle had missed the presence of soldiers. Weren't things bleak enough already without gun-toting jerks around the corner?

The Hunter took a step. Then another. And another. But they were getting quieter, further away. They were moving off.

Relaxing, Kyle blew out a breath and released his grip on Boris' arm. Ray did the same, and Boris waved his arms around in some sort of angry celebration while he glared at the two of them. He seemed to have received the message, however, and didn't immediately leap over the rock to engage God knew how many enemies armed just with an ice pick and disturbingly huge eyes.

With a smile, Kyle gave Ray a thumbs up, who returned the gesture with equal relief.

But then the Combine radio chatter kicked in, and they all froze, though Boris' expression of anticipation most definitely did _not _match Kyle and Ray's.

There was a single second of silence. And then the air around them exploded. Gunfire from pulse rifles shot through the air, looking like apocalyptic hailstones as they whizzed overhead.

Kyle heard Barney yelling something, but he couldn't make it out over the noise. Probably something like 'shoot the crap out of them'.

A sudden jolt shook through the rock they were crouched behind, and Kyle looked up to see a Hunter perched above them. With almost identical girly yelps, Kyle and Ray leapt to their feet and trained their weapons on the beast. Boris, equally quick to jump to his feet, tossed the ice pick in the air and snatched it hungrily.

"Let's dance, motherf-"

The titanic kick to his chest from the Hunter interrupted him, tossing him back with such speed that all Kyle and Ray could manage to do was get out of his way and watch him fly between them. He hit the ground at speed, rolling along before hitting a tree.

So that was the Basic Instinct approach out. The Hunter turned its vertically aligned eyes on the pair of them, trying to decide who to eviscerate first.

Even as he was wondering what the hell he was doing, Kyle opened fire on the monster, backing away as fast as his legs would allow and drawing it away from Ray, who looked equally surprised by the sudden show of bravery.

The Hunter took the pulse rifle bullets like they were water bombs, stumbling slightly from the impact but otherwise unharmed by the volley. But just because it wasn't unharmed, didn't mean it wasn't angry.

With a series of bright flashes, the Hunter fired a barrage of the thin black darts. Kyle leapt to the side, rolling along the ground and watching the projectiles embed themselves in the ground where he had just been standing. The darts emitted a whine that grew in pitch, and Kyle scrambled away just as they exploded.

This seemed to wake Ray up, and he opened fire on the Hunter, leaving it once again confused as to who it should kill first.

Then, just as it seemed to make up its mind, something sliced through the air and punched into its top eye, leaving a handle protruding out of its head. The Hunter's legs juddered for a moment before it finally collapsed to the ground noiselessly.

Kyle and Ray stood there, dumbfounded for the briefest of moments while the battle raged around them. Then, looking over, they saw Boris, shakily supporting himself against the same tree he had collided with.

"Told you it was for killing things."

Laughing madly, Ray pointed at the Hunter in disbelief. "Holy shit! I mean… holy shit!"

All Kyle could think to do was agree, nodding and smiling at Boris. "Yeah, that was-"

Something very hard collided with his back before he could finish, sending him sprawling face first along the ground. His ears were ringing as he tried to get to his feet, and he faintly heard Ray opening fire on the Hunter and yelling something.

Was he yelling at him? Kyle couldn't tell. His brain felt all woozy. He stumbled around, trying to find something to balance against. He was peripherally aware of Boris trying to move towards him, but he wasn't in a good way himself, and he promptly fell over during the attempt.

Kyle cried out in pain as a hot painful something pierced his left leg, hooking around his shin and then yanking backwards, throwing him onto his front again. Whatever it was quickly ejected from his leg, but then proceeded to wrap itself around the injured limb. He felt himself moving… being dragged along.

He was slowly rolled over onto his back by the momentum, and he looked up to see the battlefield gradually receding into the distance. Ray was trapped behind the rock, taking cover from some very insistent soldiers on the other side. He glanced over at Kyle desperately, but every time he tried to step out, he was greeted by more gunfire.

He was being captured. Shit. What did the Combine do to their captives? Kyle didn't even know. He never thought to ask. There were the usual hushed discussions of Nova Prospekt, but now that that was gone… he had no idea. It was probably horrible.

Taking a deep breath, Kyle calmed himself. Ray and Boris saw him get taken. Once they had fought off the Combine attack, they would tell Barney, and then they'd come for him.

Wouldn't they?

Yeah, of course they would. He was Kyle, they liked him. He was good with… well, he wasn't good at much of anything that was useful to the Resistance. His aim was terrible, he wasn't a good leader, he didn't have any special skills of any kind. He just sort of… existed. Went there, did that, shot this, shot that…

Come to think of it, maybe they wouldn't come for him. Probably easier without him.

The Hunter that held him captive dragged him across a particularly rocky patch of ground, banging his head around roughly.

The impact jarred his head back into positive mode, and he resolved that they definitely _would _come for him. He was Kyle. He did his best. And he had a crush on Stephanie. So, yeah, they didn't have a choice really.

They were coming for him.

They were.

…shit.

* * *

(A/N: Glad you're enjoying it so far, everybody, don't stop those reviews, they really are much appreciated.

And happy holidays!)


	7. Backtracking

Disclaimer: I don't own _Half-Life._

_**One Long Shift**_

_**Chapter Six: Backtracking**_

He wasn't exactly a whiz with math - _no-one_ could ever say that with a straight face - but Barney was fairly sure that the odds of him making it from the uprising in City 17 to here without a single bullet wound were pretty steep. Like, he was making somebody in some cosmic bookies somewhere a billionaire.

And he was still going strong. Barney felt like he should start a betting pool.

'_How long can Calhoun go without getting shot? Place your bets, place your bets!'_

Sighing the thought away, Barney continued on his way around the group. He had seen to everybody now, and by his count…

His brain felt heavier inside his skull just thinking about it. Five people had died in the battle. Seven others injured, all gathered under Wicker's tender care, with one of the Vorts that had arrived dutifully helping however it could.

Barney couldn't remember a time he had been as dumbfounded as when the three Vorts had appeared - seemingly out of nowhere - to tear the Combine a new one in the height of battle. Even with the intense glow of the portal storm behind them, the waves of green electricity the Vorts had sent out in all directions had made Barney squint.

Once the last soldier had been blasted approximately halfway across the planet, Bob had engaged in a quick, guttural Vort conversation before informing Barney that these were the Vorts that had healed Alyx. They had 'weaved the Freeman's life with hers', whatever the hell that meant.

Bow-chick-a-wow-wow.

He frowned. He really spent a disturbing amount of time thinking about Gordon and Alyx's sex life, or lack thereof. And the phrase 'bow-chick-a-wow-wow' in general. So, that was it. That was the last time he would spend any time thinking about it. Done. Finito.

Well, maybe when he saw Gordon again, so he could embarrass him.

A pained groan from one of Wicker's patients brought him back to serious leader-type matters. So with five dead, that was down to twenty-three, but with the Vorts, twenty-six. But then with the seven injured, that was down to nineteen.

Barney sighed and rubbed his forehead. Back in school he had hated math. He still hated it, but now it was for an entirely different reason.

Shaking it off, Barney switched gears in his mind and moved over to the other point of interest that required his attention: there was a traitor with them somewhere. Somebody letting the Combine know where they were. Not that Barney could see the point. Were they trying to find White Forest? And if they were, why bother attacking them now? Why not follow them and _then _attack once they'd been led right to Eli's front door?

Or _Magnusson's_ front door, whatever.

Was there something special about them? None of them were carrying anything. Alyx had taken that data packet doohickey with her with the exact purpose of leading the Combine away from Barney and the rest of the refugees, so… what? What the hell were they after?

Maybe not some_thing_… but some_one?_

But, again, nobody important. Well, Barney figured he was kind of important to the resistance, but not in the same league as Alyx or Gordon.

He looked over at Wicker. They could be coming after her. Maybe they knew. Maybe they'd figured it out.

"Nah…"

Barney turned as he waved the thought away, settling for staring at the portal storm with his hands on his hips. The Combine had had plenty of chances to grab Wicker, if she had been who they were after.

But the _why _was kind of academic. What mattered was _how_, and that led him pretty inevitably to _who_. Stephanie would have picked it up if anybody had left their radio on by accident. So that left someone transmitting some kind of signal that Stephanie couldn't pick up.

Taking a moment, Barney pinched the bridge of his nose. Where did someone start with something like this?

At a loss, he made his way over to Wicker to check over the casualties. It was possible that one of the dead had been the traitor and had been killed accidentally in the crossfire. Maybe he could find something incriminating and nip this nasty distraction in the bud. He really didn't like looking at everybody with suspicion.

Wicker was seeing to Ray, who was sat against a tree. He was waving off her attempts to check for injuries.

"What happened?" Barney asked, trying to ignore how Wicker visibly tensed at the sound of his voice.

"Got hit in the head with Boris," Ray mumbled, rubbing the sore spot.

Barney frowned. "Boris?"

In reply, Ray pointed a gloved finger at the man lying beside him. Barney stepped around Wicker and Ray to inspect him further. He couldn't remember a Boris. True, there were quite a few people here who he didn't know, but still… Boris was kind of a distinctive name. He vaguely recognised the face, though. Probably saw him in passing at the train station, people kind of came from all directions to meet there. He was unconscious, with a nasty bruise on his left temple.

"He killed a Hunter with an ice pick."

The sheer bizarre nature of that comment caused both Barney and Wicker to stare at him like he was a lunatic.

"What?"

Ray nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah. Craziest thing I'd ever seen, man. Kyle couldn't-"

His face dropped.

"Kyle. Is Kyle here?"

Squatting down, Barney looked him in the eye. "Say what?"

"Kyle. He was… we were fighting a Hunter, and then…" He opened his palm beside his head to indicate an explosion.

In his own world, Barney started looking around. "Kyle… I haven't seen him. Shit, how did I miss that?"

"You _were _kind of busy," Wicker said, looking reluctant to give him a break.

Unsure of how to take kindness from Wicker after years of snide comments and angry glances, Barney just nodded.

"Uh… Ray," he announced a little too loudly, "where did it happen?"

"What?"

"The fight, where Kyle got nabbed. Where?"

Confused, Ray vaguely pointed off behind him and to the left. Barney slapped him on the arm and set off, shrugging the pulse rifle off his shoulder as he went.

It was pretty easy to find. There was a smattering of scorch marks on the floor where Barney assumed the Hunter's exploding dart things (he'd have to come up with a better name for those) had hit. Some blood had been left spread across one of the scorch marks. So the Hunter had hurt Kyle before taking him. That made it less likely he was the traitor. But then, if he was, then maybe he asked them to make it look convincing.

Gah. Suspicion. He hated it.

He scanned the area, slowly walking forward. His boot hit against something that was partially buried beneath some twigs. Squatting down, he brushed it aside to find… a metal box, small and rectangular. Roughly the same shape as a clip for a pistol. Barney brought it closer to his face for inspection (glasses, he needed to talk to Kleiner about glasses). There was a single black button on the side, which was pressed in pretty definitively. Nothing much else he could see.

Blowing out a frustrated breath through his nose, Barney put the box in his front pocket. After one last scan of the area, he got to his feet and headed back to the camp.

As soon as he was back, he made a beeline for Ray, who had finally convinced Wicker to leave him alone. She was now tending to Boris as Barney walked around her and knelt down beside Ray.

He wordlessly pulled the box out of his pocket and displayed it to Ray. When the only answer he got was a befuddled shrug, Barney sighed.

"You recognise it?"

"No. What is it?"

"I don't know, that's why I'm askin' you."

Ray shrugged again, making an 'I dunno' noise.

"Crap," Barney murmured.

Without another word to Ray, he set off to find Stephanie. It didn't take him long, because she was looking for him too.

"We've got a problem," she gasped.

"Tell me about it." He frowned. "Hey, whoa, what? What's the problem _you've _got?"

"Kyle had my equipment."

"He- _what?"_

"We were walking, and he saw that it was heavy, and he offered to take it, and I thought 'gee, what a gentleman'-"

Barney put up a quieting hand. "Hold up. _Kyle _has your equipment?"

"Yeah."

"The communications equipment?"

"Yeah."

"Kyle."

"That's him."

He groaned and put his fists on either side of his head. "That's… really not good for him."

"What? Why not?"

"Because the Combine took him."

"They _what?"_

Barney didn't repeat the statement, he just waited a moment for that news to sink in. She looked devastated, and Barney didn't think it'd be appropriate to ask whether it was over Kyle or the equipment. Then something occurred to her, and her face lit up.

"There's a tracer," she said quickly, frantically searching her pockets.

"A tracer?"

"Uh-huh." She grunted as she plunged a hand deep into the pocket on her left calf. "Ah! Gotcha!"

With a grin, she produced the relevant device. It looked like a compass crossed with a radar. A solid blue blob in the middle of the screen representing them, and a yellow blob flashing off in the top right hand corner representing the equipment. Which, mercifully, had stopped moving.

Though he couldn't see it, Barney guessed that his smile matched Stephanie's. "That's… awesome."

"Uh-huh," she said, ever so pleased with herself. What the hell, she'd earned it.

Barney gestured for her to give him the radar, and she did so. "This is great. I'll get a team together, and we'll-"

Suddenly he remembered why he had been looking for Stephanie in the first place, and dug into his front pocket in a manner similar to Stephanie earlier. Before her increasingly curious gaze, Barney produced the metal box.

"Any ideas? I mean, I've never seen-"

She snatched it out of his hand and held it just beneath her eyes, almost touching her nose. After that examination, she rattled it near her ear, slapped it a couple of times and finally took a couple of whiffs.

Leaving Barney a little flabbergasted, she handed it back.

"Homing beacon."

"Uh…" He unsurely brought up his hand and took the device. "You sure?"

"Oh yeah."

"…how?"

"How what?"

"How do you know?"

She waved off the question modestly. "I've got an ear for these things."

"And an eye. And a nose."

Smiling, she shrugged. "All of which tell me it's a beacon."

"Right…" Barney nodded again numbly. Then, his brain caught up with what she was saying. "Wait, a beacon? As in… a beacon?"

"Yep, one of those things."

"And have you seen anythin' like this before?"

Rolling her eyes upward, Stephanie searched her mental database. "Hmm… no, nope, don't think so. I mean, the metal looks like something the Combine would make, but other than that, I've got no idea."

The mention of _that _word made Barney feel heavier. "Combine…"

"Yeah."

He nodded slowly before rubbing his eyes wearily. "…shit."

Stephanie was as confused as Barney was tired. "Why, wh-" She stared at the beacon in Barney's now fiercely clenched hand. "Kyle had that."

Wordlessly, Barney nodded.

"But, I mean…" Her face tightening, Stephanie looked everywhere but at Barney, searching for an explanation somewhere else. "That doesn't mean it was his, I mean… that could have been left there by a soldier, or, or…"

She let out a calming breath, and, with hands on hips, looked him in the eye.

"You're gonna go get him, right?"

"…yeah."

"I'm going with you."

For a moment, Barney was at a loss for how many different ways there were to say 'no'. Then he remembered a few. "Nope, no, no way, absolutely no chance."

"Barney, listen-"

"No, I don't listen too good. Listening is what you do. You the only person here who can work that equipment. We lose you, we can't talk to White Forest."

"We can't talk to White Forest anyway."

"W- yeah, that's true, but if we find some way to talk to them later, it's gonna be through your equipment, right?"

This time it was Stephanie who was at a loss for words. "Well… yeah."

"And nobody else knows how to use it, right?"

"…no…"

"Sorry, didn't catch that."

"No, Barney."

"Right. So you stay." He sighed, and pointed to his face. "You see this? Right here? This is the strict old jerk I never wanted to be. All your fault."

"Sorry, boss."

"Yeah, well, I'll let it go this time," he muttered, patting her on the arm before heading off.

"Barney?"

He turned to face her, and saw a level of concern on her face he couldn't remember ever seeing before.

"Innocent until proven guilty, okay?"

Barney smiled and slowly nodded. "Okay."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

"Don't make me get a pinky swear."

He waved his arms at her dismissively. "Shut up, geez…"

Making his way around the camp, Barney made a point of checking everybody, either by talking, nodding or just glancing in their general direction. So many of them had been killed already, they deserved some reassurance. And, to be honest, even if everybody was fine, he would have felt the need to make sure they were okay, especially since he was about to take a group of them off on a nasty mission.

And he always, always, _always_ felt their eyes on him when bad shit had gone down. Even if he was sitting by a tree picking at a bit of dirt on his clothes, he always had their expectations bearing down on him. It was ridiculous, but sometimes he felt like just his being there made them feel better.

He had to face it. There wasn't much to feel good about here. So if his just standing there nodding and patting them on the shoulder like an idiot with a big ego made them feel better, then… nods and shoulder-pats it was.

Sighing, Barney went over to Bob and the rest of the Vorts. Well, he assumed Bob was among them. It might have been Bob who was over with Wicker helping her tend to the wounded. They were speaking in their flux-shifting language, and he felt a little awkward interrupting it. Barney sometimes wondered if it would be possible sometime in the future to write a Vort-English dictionary. He remembered one of the Vorts telling him that they had about four times the amount of vocal chords as humans. So… probably not. Maybe one of those throat-singing guys could manage it.

After several false starts, Barney finally succeeded in clearing his throat and getting the attention of his guests. Their conversation ceased immediately, and they stared at him unwaveringly.

"Hey, guys."

"Greetings, Calhoun," they chorused.

The volume of the greeting forced Barney to tilt his head back a little. "Yeah, uh, I need some help."

"Please," one of them said, gesturing for Barney to stand in the middle of their circle.

He put his hands up. "Uh, no, that's okay. One of ours was taken in the attack. A guy called Kyle Danvers. And it _looks like _he may have been a spy for the Combine."

"Your tone does not suggest certainty, Calhoun."

"Yeah, exactly. Innocent until proven guilty. The proof we've got doesn't add up to much. But either way, Kyle's got at least some intel about the resistance in his noggin, not to mention our communications equipment, and God knows what they could get with that. So I want you guys to come with me and get him."

They all nodded, their eyes closed gravely. Then, slowly, one of them raised a querying hand.

Barney paused for a moment before pointing at the Vort. "Uh… yeah?"

"'Noggin'?"

Much to Barney's relief, one of the Vorts _was_ Bob, and spoke up. "I have learnt from the Ray that this word means 'head'."

The other two Vorts nodded with a growled 'Ah'.

Barney really hated the fact that he couldn't tell the Vorts apart, but… seriously, there was _nothing _to differentiate them. They had the same voice, the same eyes in the same place… At least Magnusson's lab assistant Vort wore a lab coat.

"One of our number shall remain behind to assist the Wicker with her Hippocratic duties."

"Sure, good, thanks," Barney breathed, thankful to have one less detail to worry about. With a Vort staying here, he felt a little more secure leaving the camp. Vorts were fierce bastards when it came to fighting.

"Lemme just get some supplies, and we'll get goin'."

"Bring a weapon for myself, Calhoun," Bob asked sagely.

"Yeah, I- what?"

The Vorts exchanged a look, and then let out a horrible coughing noise that Barney realised was laughter.

"Oh, I get it, yeah, thanks," he sighed, shaking his head as he started back towards where he had left his bag. "Good to know the spirit of SNL is alive in you guys…"

It didn't take him long to gather what he needed. Extra cartridges for his pulse rifle, two grenades he'd managed to keep from before the City 17 uprising, and a partridge in a pear tree. Well, maybe not that last one, he was saving that for Christmas. If the human race ever got around to properly celebrating Christmas again. In truth, nobody was really sure what the date was, so those who cared had their own individual little Christmas celebrations.

Before heading back to the Vorts, he checked his front pocket. He smiled and zipped it up again.

"Love you," he murmured before setting off.

The Vorts weren't alone when he got back; Ray was with them, resting his pulse rifle on his shoulder in the closest approximation to a badass he could muster.

"What're you doin'?"

"Going to help my friend," Ray said simply. "That okay with you?"

Barney thought about it, then shrugged. "Sure." He pointed a finger at him. "But you gotta know that Kyle might already be dead. And if he isn't, he might be a traitor. In which case, we rescue him or kill him. Or rescue him _then _kill him. Or just… rescue him. But the possibility of him not wantin' to come back with us is there, and I need to know that you're ready to… do somethin' you may not like. Capisce?"

Ray just fiddled with his pulse rifle. "Who the hell says 'capisce' anymore?"

"Ray."

"I mean, 'capisce'? Seriously?"

"Ray, look at me."

With a sudden anger that took Barney aback, Ray's gaze whipped up to meet his. "Yes, Barney, I might have to kill Kyle! I get it!" He glanced at the Vorts with regret, then went back to his rifle. "I get it," he repeated, quietly.

And there was that horrible feeling Barney got in his gut. The feeling he had had the last time he waved goodbye to Lauren. When he had watched Gordon and Alyx shrink into the distance while he stood on the back of a rickety City 17 train.

When something bad was coming and he couldn't do anything to stop it. He quickly shook it off. Some leader he was, getting the jitters.

"Let's go, people. We got a world to save."

* * *

(A/N: Hope you had a good holiday break everyone. Back to the grindstone! Reviews, please - as always, they've much appreciated)


	8. Ignition

Disclaimer: I don't own _Half-Life._

_**One Long Shift**_

_**Chapter Seven: Ignition**_

Kyle thought it was funny (not ha-ha funny, more strange funny), the things one noticed when they were lying in the dark. He didn't wonder where he was, didn't check for wounds, didn't see if he had any weapons or where the exits were. No, all he could think was that his forehead was wet. Not just a bit damp, but wet, as though he had been lying face down in a puddle.

And, lo and behold, when he felt around his fingers, he found that that was exactly what had happened. The Combine soldiers who had roughly taken him from the Hunter's grasp had dragged him through the corridors of this old barn, torn the communications equipment from his back and chuckled a bit before hitting him on the back of the head and plunging him into painful darkness.

And then he had woken up in a pitch black room with a wet forehead.

He sat up with a grunt, squinting and looking around. Nothing he could make out. A sigh escaped him.

So. This was his life now. Pitch black with a hole in his leg and a wet head. And - he sniffed, instantly grimacing at the foul smell - a stink that would make a Combine sewage officer hurl.

A sound suspiciously close to a human groan freaked the hell out of him, and he shuffled away. Though he wasn't really sure which direction the sound had come from, so really he was just shuffling aimlessly. But eventually, his back pushed against a wall. Running his hands across it, Kyle guessed it was wood. Considering he was expecting cool Combine steel, it was a bit of a relief to come across good old-fashioned wood. This way he might be able to kick his way out.

"Who… is someone there?"

The voice was gruff, like it hadn't been used in months. Which was probably true.

Kyle cleared his throat. "Uh… hello?"

"Hello?"

"…hello?"

"Can you hear me?"

"Yeah, uh… yeah, I can hear you. Sorry, I was kind of freaked out there."

Whoever the guy was had a coughing fit before replying. "Who are you?"

"Oh, um, I'm Kyle," he said, holding out a hand to shake. Realising he was in the dark, he rolled his eyes at his own incompetence. "I'm with the resistance."

"Yeah…" the guy coughed again. "Me too. This place is a resistance bunker. Or was. Now it's home to some… _thing_."

Sighing, Kyle closed his eyes and rested his back. "Great…"

"I'm Carlos."

"Hey. Nice place you've got here."

Carlos didn't reply. Sense of humour was probably the first thing to go when you were in a place like this.

Kyle swallowed, feeling like it was loud enough to be heard outside. "Hey, uh… what happened to everybody?"

He knew the answer to the question before he had finished asking it. The long silence from Carlos just confirmed it.

"To start off with, they were all in here with me. Then, one by one, soldiers came and took them away. Don't know where. Didn't hear them scream, nothing." He stopped, and sounded like he was choking on something. "Then they brought them back."

Scrunching his eyes shut, Kyle tried his best to resist the gag reflex that was building. "So that smell…"

"…yeah."

Still fighting the urge to regurgitate his lunch, Kyle blew out a long breath, then mentally cursed the fact that he'd have to breathe in again at some point.

"We'll be okay," Kyle said, though it sounded a little more like a chant. "We'll be fine. There were two guys with me who saw me get taken, so they'll… yeah, they'll tell Barney, and then he'll come-"

"Barney?"

Though there was strictly no light coming into the room, Kyle was getting a better sense of where Carlos was from the sound of his voice. He looked over at him, or at the general area where he thought Carlos was.

"Uh… yeah, Barney."

"As in Barney _Calhoun?"_

"Well, yeah. Is there anybody else in the resistance called Barney?"

"I… don't know."

Kyle went to reply, then closed his mouth again. He _had _meant the comment sarcastically, but when he thought about it he actually didn't know anybody else called Barney in the resistance.

"Neither do I. That's weird." He shook his head. "But anyway, yeah, that's him. Why?"

He heard a contented sigh from Carlos' direction. "'And yea, the Freeman's friend and protector Barney Calhoun shall show us the way, safeguarding the One Free Man's light and spirit until his return.'"

Frozen, Kyle tried not to show any emotion regarding what Carlos had said. Even though it was too dark for Carlos to even see his face, but still… these 'Book of Freeman' people were… twitchy.

"Have you read it?" Carlos asked reverently.

"Uh… no, I haven't."

"Got me through a lot of hard times."

Biting his tongue, Kyle nodded. "Good. Sounds… good. Nice that he's back now, huh?"

"Oh, he's not back. The person who they're calling Freeman is just an emissary."

"I… didn't know that."

"Oh yeah. I mean, when the real Freeman returns, boy, are we going to know it!"

Carlos started laughing, and Kyle felt obliged to join in.

When the door opened, Kyle felt a weird mix of relief and horrible, horrible dread for what was coming. The light that spilled into the room revealed it as a closed off little room with a very low, slanted roof. Maybe a storage cupboard under some stairs?

He wasn't given much time to ponder the matter, as a painfully tight grip was applied to his arm and he was dragged out into the open. 'The open' being a dark, dank corridor. Flies buzzed, eager to get to the dead bodies piling up in the room Kyle had just left.

As he was being dragged down the corridor, it occurred to him that it was a room he was probably going to return to later. He'd just be dead by then.

Kyle fought down the wave of panic that threatened to overcome him, and took a deep breath. Tears were forming in his eyes, and his bottom lip was trembling. He did his best to control himself - there was no way he was going to die crying. That was just… embarrassing. He didn't want to give Ray any more reasons to mock him.

Shit, he was never going to see Ray again. That was not a nice thought.

Though he couldn't bring himself to turn around, he heard Carlos struggling against the soldiers who were escorting him down the corridor. Kyle didn't know where he got the will. Maybe it was just stupidity or stubbornness; an inability to see that even if he escaped from those soldiers, there were many others waiting around the corner. If what Kyle thought was here was here, then… there would be a lot of soldiers around to guard it.

As though to confirm his train of thought, they came to a stop at the end of the corridor, pausing for the soldier on Kyle's right to open the door in front of them.

It slowly creaked out of their way, revealing the main section of the barn. A dark, cold place, lit by the deadened blue of a Combine power station that had been hastily installed against the wall.

Kyle was shoved inside, and as he stumbled he accidentally put his weight on his wounded leg. He tumbled to the ground face first, grunting from the impact. Carlos fell to the ground beside him, and Kyle heard the door slam shut.

The soldier's chuckles echoing from outside did _not _help Kyle's attempts to keep calm.

Being careful not to put weight on his left leg, Kyle managed to get to his feet, kicking up a lot of dust as he did so. Carlos did the same, but didn't make an effort to move any further. When Kyle looked over at him, he saw that his attention had been caught by something on the other side of the room.

Following his gaze, Kyle saw what had Carlos so mesmerised. A metal shell that had been hung in the upper left-hand corner of the room, about the size of a car. Cables snaked from all over the thing, linking to the hunk of glowing Combine machinery resting beside Kyle and Carlos.

Nothing was happening. Kyle wasn't sure what to do. Maybe that console was the thing to look into. Maybe if he did some crazy… computer… thing…

Except he didn't know a thing about computers. Unless it was Sega Genesis. Then he would do crazy computer things all over the place. But somehow that seemed unlikely.

Eyes locked on the metal shell in the corner, Kyle edged towards the console. Carlos let out the slightest whimper.

Somehow, that was enough to wake up the thing in the corner. With only a low metallic groan to signal its awakening, the shell slowly slid upwards, section by section. Kyle was frozen to the spot, and could only stare up in mute horror at the white slug… thing that was revealed inside.

Like a baby waking up, the creature seemed to look around the room as it stretched its back. In no time, it had noticed their presence, and stared down at them. Well, Kyle assumed it was staring, he didn't really know if the thing had eyes. All he could make out was a small panel of black metal attached to the front of it with thin cables that dangled beneath like tentacles. There was a small hole beneath the panel that reminded Kyle of a belly button.

He didn't know why, but he was struck with the feeling that something was going to come out of that hole. Kyle _really _didn't like that feeling.

Carlos, his previously unwavering faith in the Book of Freeman gone, started to wail as he ran to the door, slamming his shoulder against it and pounding it with his fists.

The creature whipped its 'gaze' onto Carlos. Kyle started to back up towards him.

"Carlos, stop. Stop it. Carlos, it's-"

The air was shimmering around them, like looking through heat fumes. With a suddenness that made him cry out, Kyle was thrown into the air and slammed against a pillar. He gasped, the air thrown from his lungs by the impact. When he opened his eyes, he saw that he was pinned against the pillar and high above the ground, clamped there by some unseen…

Well, not unseen. He could see the thing that had put him there, he just… couldn't see _how_.

Not that he really cared. All he could think about now was how terrified Carlos looked as he was pulled slowly through the air by dark green trails of light, almost imperceptible if not for the blue light from the console.

Carlos thrashed and cried out and openly wept as he was dragged to his fate. Kyle wanted to call out to him, to reassure him, but he couldn't even open his mouth. Not that there was any way to reassure him if he could have spoken. There wasn't much hope to be had in this situation.

Like a discerning shopper, the creature seemed to look Carlos up and down as it held him in front of it. Then, confirming Kyle's earlier horrible suspicion, a fleshy tentacle began to emerge from the hole on the monster's 'face'. Tentatively at first, it moved towards Carlos' struggling face, brushing against it.

"Please, oh God, please, please-"

Finding nothing to interest it on Carlos' face, the creature looked almost disappointed. Then, with a speed that made Kyle gasp (if he could have gasped), Carlos was rotated around so his back was facing the slug.

Helpless, Carlos stared at him, looking into his eyes with a fear that chilled Kyle to the bone.

He tried to close his eyes, but found he couldn't. All he could do was watch as the Combine… thing plunged the tentacle into Carlos' neck, moving inside deeper and deeper. Carlos' eyes moved up into his head, any expression of pain lost, instead replaced by a sickeningly loose expression, as though he were a puppet that had had its strings cut.

Kyle screamed through his closed mouth. This was…

He was going to die. This was it. There was no rescue, no Barney, no Ray, no Gordon fucking Freeman charging in on his white horse to save him. This was just him, Kyle Danvers, lowly rebel, being killed on the whim of some… slug monster.

The creature retracted the tentacle, flicking blood across the barn as it moved out of Carlos' neck. Looking bored with the remains of its meal, the creature considered Carlos' body for a moment before invisibly twisting the torso back so that his head met the heel of his boots. Without another moments' consideration, it ejected Carlos across the barn, leaving him in a heap on the dusty floor.

Kyle's heart leapt into his throat as the Combine slug looked at him. He could feel himself moving towards it. Shit, why couldn't it move him faster? Being killed by a slug tentacle to the neck wouldn't be so bad if it was quick. But this… this was unlike anything he had ever imagined.

This was why the Combine were the enemy. They seemed to take joy in slowly killing things, in draining them of their will, their life.

And then, suddenly, Kyle felt angry. His fear burned away by some huge fire that had just ignited in him.

"Fuck you," he said abruptly, surprising himself at how he had broken from the invisible clamp the creature had placed over his mouth. Incensed, he continued.

"Fuck you! There was stuff going on here before you arrived! TV shows I liked! Bands I listened to! For God's sake, the Rolling Stones! All dead because of you!"

He was close enough for the creature to get at him with the tentacle now. It turned him around so the back of his neck was facing it.

"And, and, I had friends! Because of you, I'm gonna die now, and I'm not gonna see them again!"

There was a slithering noise as what he presumed was the tentacle came out to play.

"There was… holy shit, there was a girl who liked me! She was nice! We could have had sex! The Combine assholes stole sex from me! Sex, do you hear me?! SEX!"

And then, with an incredibly loud bang, his world tipped upside down. Literally. Suddenly, he was against the wall.

There was another bang, and with equal speed, he found himself rolling along before lying face down on the floor and in control of his own limbs. Light shone down on him.

His breathing shallow and hope creeping into him, he looked up and saw a hole in the roof. Gunfire echoed from outside, as well as the occasional explosion. Kyle turned and saw that the creature was still there, but its attention was no longer on him. Rather, it was focused on the hole in the roof.

With a suddenness that made him gasp, a silhouette appeared in the hole. A Vortigaunt silhouette. Then another. Then another.

Like synchronised acrobats, they leapt down into the barn, forming a barrier between the Combine slug and Kyle. A low growl filled the air, becoming a long, continuous hum, like monks chanting.

The slug didn't seem to like this, and irritably yanked itself free of the cables binding it to the shell. Sparks flew as the cables dangled down, the creature getting into position above the Vorts.

A wave of shimmering air blew out from the monster at the Vorts. The chanting aliens thrust their arms out in front of them, palms open, stopping the wave in its tracks.

Kyle was mesmerised. He felt like he was watching something that no human should see. It was awesome. In the literal, dictionary definition sense of the word, not the surfer dude 'Whoa, totally awesome!' way.

The wave moved subtly, shifting back and forth between the Vorts and the slug. This went on for some time before the Vorts made a concerted, loud chant, increasing in volume as they pushed their arms even further forward.

A terrible shriek pierced the air as the Combine slug cowered away from the attack. Kyle grinned at seeing the hideous thing in pain. He couldn't help the bloodlust, and any guilt he felt about it was greatly outweighed by the memory of just how afraid he had been only a few minutes ago.

_How does it feel, you slug… bastard… thingy… bastard? Not good, is it?_

The Vort in the middle of the formation stopped chanting and started rubbing its hands together, kicking off a different chant, the one that always sounded like 'Gala Lung' to Kyle.

Green electricity just… appeared. Only a little at first, small streaks coming from nowhere, gathering between the Vorts palms. Kyle could feel the hairs on his arms standing on end. More and more electricity gathered, more than Kyle had ever seen a Vort summon before.

Edging around, he saw that the Vort was gathering the energy into a sphere of almost blinding green energy, moving it around in its hands like a chef kneading dough. The Combine slug squealed again, trying to get away.

But even Kyle, who had next to no knowledge about these semi-mystical happenings, knew that the Vorts had it now. No way was it getting away.

With a war cry that Kyle didn't understand, the central Vort thrust its arms out at the slug, throwing the ball of energy _into _the creature. As it went, the light fluctuated, becoming so bright that Kyle had to look away. When he turned back, he saw the monster shuddering as it began to glow with green energy, the light becoming more and more intense until the creature was consumed by it.

Putting a hand up to shield his eyes, he could just make out that the Combine-thing was being crushed by the energy. No, that was inaccurate. It was more like the orb of green energy had become a magnet, pulling the monster into itself.

All it managed to let out was one last high pitched, pained cry before it simply… stopped being there. There was a slight whoosh of air, like a gentle breeze, and then… nothing. The green light was gone.

The Vorts stopped their chanting and knelt. It was the first time Kyle had seen Vorts looking tired. Exhausted, even.

Gunshots from behind made Kyle whirl around to face the door. The door handle had been completely blasted away. With an authority than made Kyle feel a lot better, a rebel boot kicked the door open. Smoke billowed in from the corridor.

And then, stepping out of it like an action hero, was Ray, pulse rifle at the ready.

Kyle grinned, feeling like he might cry but not particularly caring. "Ray!"

He rushed over as fast as his leg would allow. Or, at least, he would have if Ray hadn't immediately trained his rifle on him.

Skidding to a halt, Kyle just stared at the muzzle of the gun. He wasn't sure if he should raise his hands or not, and they hovered at a sort of midpoint between being above his head and down by his sides.

"Ray? What's… going on?"

Ray didn't reply. But Kyle could see him blinking rapidly, like he was in a panic.

"Ray. It's me. Kyle. Are you… I mean, what're you doing?"

Again, no response. Kyle could see Ray squeezing the trigger.

"Holy shit, Ray! What're you doing?"

There was an explosion in the corridor, and a Combine soldier flew into the room, limply thudding along the floor behind Ray. A breathless, determined Barney Calhoun followed shortly after. He looked from Ray to Kyle, exhaling in relief when he saw Kyle.

"There y'are. C'mon, we're gettin' outta here."

Kyle cast a wary glance at Ray, who had since lowered his rifle. His throat suddenly dry, Kyle swallowed, nodding frantically.

"Yeah, uh… yeah, sounds good. Let's go."

With a smile that wasn't quite his usual pleased grin, Barney ushered him out of the room, locking his attention on the Vorts behind Kyle.

"You guys good to go?"

Looking back, Kyle could see the Vorts were only just now getting to their feet. They stretched and rotated their limbs around like athletes warming up. After a moment of preparation, they nodded to each other, and then to Barney, one of them giving him a thumbs up.

"Lovely," Barney breathed. "Now c'mon, go, go, go! Soldiers aren't letting us get out that easy."

This time, Barney forcibly grabbed Kyle and shoved him out into the corridor. Barney followed, with Ray behind him, and the Vorts taking up the back. One of them, presumably Bob, sidled to the front.

"It is most agreeable to see you again, Danvers."

"Thanks." He glanced back to the room where he had very nearly died. "That was one hell of a thing you did there."

Bob tilted his head from side to side. "This one is not so certain. Their malevolence cannot be questioned. However… the taking of a life is never without its' price."

With a sighed, Kyle nodded. "I guess not."

The conversation seemingly over, the Vort put its attention front and centre, moving ahead of them and to the corner. Something occurred to Kyle, and he snapped his fingers and looked to Barney.

"Uh, Barney, I had Stephanie's communication equipment. We need to-"

"Taken care of," he dismissed, keeping his eyes on everything but Kyle. "Ray's got it."

Glancing over Barney's shoulder, Kyle could see that Ray was indeed wearing the communication equipment on his back. The way Ray had pointed a gun on him as soon as he had seen him kind of took his attention away from the backpack area.

As they made their way out of the barn and into the open, Barney shoved Kyle's head down and moved him swiftly behind a parked Combine van. Bullets ricocheted and grenades exploded. Combine radios grumbled in the distance.

With an intensity Kyle had never seen in him before, Ray ducked behind a metal trough for cover, popping up and releasing a barrage of fire every now and again. And, judging by the flat-lines coming from the other side of the van, he was hitting his targets pretty efficiently.

It was only when Kyle noticed the pistol strapped to Barney's hip that he realised that nobody had given him a gun. Not that he was exactly a sharpshooter, but the resistance had never been that fussy. Anyone willing to stand up to the Combine was welcome, regardless of combat skill.

And then Kyle started to worry in earnest. Ray had been ready to shoot him. He _would _have shot him if Barney hadn't come in when he did.

Kyle had just had a near-death experience. His friends had come for him, just as he had hoped.

So why did he feel like he was heading for even more trouble?

* * *

(A/N: Once again, thanks for all the reviews, everybody. Keep it up!)


	9. Checking the Mirrors

Disclaimer: I don't own _Half-Life._

_**One Long Shift**_

_**Chapter Eight: Checking the Mirrors**_

Chest heaving, Barney rested his shoulder against a tree, gasping for air. It had been a long time since he'd run that fast, and for that long. There were times he was worried he was going to fall over.

Squinting, he looked into the distance, and could just make out movement. He pointed, tilting his head towards Bob. The Vort, of course, showed no signs of fatigue, and seemed to be a bit curious as to why Barney was breathing so heavily.

"Is that… the camp?"

All it took for Bob to ascertain the truth was a cursory glance. "Indeed. The Calhoun should perhaps consider a visual aid, in the manner of the Freeman."

"Now there's a mental image I never wanted," Barney sighed, and began to lead the way to the camp.

Glancing over his shoulder, he saw a worried Kyle, not sure where to look. Not that Barney could blame him. If he _was _the traitor, then he would be worried about whatever horrible torture they had planned. And if he was innocent, then… he was probably concerned that his friends weren't talking to him and were treating him like a prisoner.

Barney _really _hoped it was the latter. But then… he was struggling to find another explanation.

When they got into the camp, Barney went straight to Wicker, who had since finished tending to the her patients and was sitting back against a tree, staring into the distance in her best approximation of relaxing. She seemed to be aware of him but was making a concerted effort to _not _to see him.

Standing in front of her kind of forced her to acknowledge the fact that he was there.

"Wicker, could you help me with Kyle?"

"You got him?"

He nodded.

"Great," she breathed, shuffling up the tree and to her feet. "Put him with the others and we'll-"

"No. We need him by himself."

Wicker looked at him askance. "…okay…"

"I've got some questions for him, and I don't want any of the others… uh… getting wind of it."

"But you're okay with _me _hearing?"

"Yeah, well, you're the strong and silent type. No worries about you gossipin'."

This managed to elicit a small smile from her, which gave Barney a small boost in this overwhelmingly negative situation.

"Okay," she said quietly, waving for him to lead on.

With a deep breath, Barney reluctantly did just that. He _really _wasn't looking forward to this. Interrogations had never been his thing. Shooting people in a fire fight? Fine. Slugging someone in the jaw? Also fine. But purposefully causing someone pain? It just… didn't sit right with him. He knew there were times when it had to be done, and there were people who had to do it.

He just wished it wasn't _him _who had to do it.

Kyle looked appropriately puppy-like as Wicker saw to his leg. Ray was stood to the side, acting like he was guarding the area though his attention was clearly on the conversation that was about to take place.

Barney went to Bob first. "Hey, Bob, could you and the Vorts have a check around, make sure the Combine aren't followin' us? I'm still not convinced we gave 'em the slip."

"It shall be done," he growled, bowing his head reverently. The Vort turned to his kin and said something incomprehensible. They all nodded and split off in different directions. In the distance, he could see the fourth Vort doing the same, apparently having heard Bob's order from way over there.

Taking a deep breath, Barney squatted down by Kyle. "How you doin', kid?"

"Uh… fine. I mean, I'm a little…" He looked Barney in the eye. "Is everything okay?"

"Honestly? No," he said bluntly, casting gaze around the area. He shrugged his shoulders, forcing himself to continue with as much authority as he could muster. "Here's the thing, Kyle. Since we started on this little trek, the Combine have known where we are. First time, I thought it was a fluke, but after all the attacks, and especially after the shortcut, it just seems…"

He sighed. "Well, long story short, I've thought over the possibilities, and it looks like somebody's tellin' the Combine where we are."

Kyle's head ducked down. "You're kidding me." He looked completely bowled over. "Holy shit…"

Barney winced. "That's where you come in."

_That _got his attention, and his eyes whipped up to meet Barney's. "What? I… what?"

Putting on his best CP steely gaze, Barney stared right back at him. "Kyle, we think it's you sending messages to the Combine, letting them know where we are."

His mouth was just hanging open.

Though he knew the best thing he could do was to keep pounding away, Barney felt his determination wavering. This all felt so wrong. He risked a glance at Wicker, but she wasn't even looking at him. Her focus was all on the leg.

Reaching into his pocket, Barney brought out the homing beacon. He held it out of Kyle's reach, just in case.

"You want to tell me what this is?"

"Uh…" Kyle spent the longest time staring at it. But there was no sign of panic. No indicator that he was coming up with some excuse, or afraid of getting busted. He just genuinely studied the thing. "A… metal box?"

"It's a homing device. Unlike anythin' Stephanie's seen. And you know how much she knows about this stuff."

He rocked his head from side to side. "Well, yeah."

"This was found where you had been fightin'."

"Okay, but… that doesn't mean it was _mine."_

Blowing out a frustrated breath through his nose, Barney put the beacon back in his pocket. "The Combine took _you_, Kyle. Just you."

"W… yeah, but it wasn't willingly! A hunter stabbed me in the leg, man."

Checking with Wicker, he got an affirmative response.

"Did anyone see that?" Barney asked, his gaze unwavering.

Kyle's hands were shaking as he scratched his faint beard. "Uh… Boris, Boris was there. Did he see? He saw me. And-"

"Wicker? Boris say anythin' to you?"

Wicker shook her head. "Hasn't woken up yet. Took a nasty bump to the head."

This elicited a frown from Kyle. "The head? He didn't… he got hit in the chest and slammed into a tree. His head was fine. I mean, as fine as his head can be. He… tried to stab a Hunter."

Now it was Barney's turn to be confused. True, that could all be nonsense to get them off the trail, but… Barney wasn't so sure. Kyle had never seemed like someone who would betray others. At least, not to the Combine. He vaguely remembered Kyle taking a gulp of water from someone else's canteen and then lying about it later, only to confess out of guilt a week later.

Could a guy like that sell out the entire human race?

"Ray was there," Kyle said suddenly, pointing to his friend. "He saw me get dragged away but he couldn't do anything about it because he was under fire."

Everybody looked at Ray, Wicker included.

"No I didn't," Ray said, his voice low.

They continued to stare.

"I didn't! C'mon," he said, his face locked in a 'Don't be Stupid' frown, "he'd accuse anyone to take the suspicion off himself."

Kyle looked like he had just been stabbed. "Ray, what… I… you saw!"

"I didn't see anything."

"Yes you did!" he cried, his voice cracking with desperation. "Ray, I don't know what's going on. First you look like you're gonna shoot me back at the barn, and then you-"

Barney threw a gloved hand in the air. "Whoa, what? He was gonna shoot you?"

"No, I-" Ray growled. "_You _told me I had to be prepared to kill Kyle, I was just-"

"Yeah, _if _we found out he was workin' for the Combine. Innocent until proven guilty. You took that to mean 'shoot your best friend'?"

Ray bit back what looked like an angry response, and took a breath. "Look. You told me to be prepared to kill him. I didn't like it, but… sometimes things like that have to be done. They aren't pleasant, but-"

"'-they're for the greater good'," Barney cut in, his voice low and throaty. There was this horrible pressure in his head, he felt like his brain was about to explode.

Ray stared at him in horror. "What?"

Literally shaking with rage, Barney could only manage, in the quietest murmur, "You've said that before."

* * *

"_Run for your life!"_

_The cry was abruptly cut off by a tumbling crash several floors below. The CPs were coming. How they had found out about this, Barney had no idea. But here they were, huddling in a room on the top floor of a rotting apartment building. Though all the buildings from before the Combine were rotting by now. Not the best landlords._

_Wicker shushed Carol, rocking her in an attempt to soothe her. She was crying incessantly, and Barney was getting incredibly scared that she wouldn't calm down any time soon. They may as well have a megaphone blaring out 'Hey Combine, here we are, come and kill us!'._

"_How is she?" Barney whispered, keeping a protective arm around Wicker._

"_Fine, she just… I think she can tell something's wrong."_

_He smiled. "You sure it's not just gas?"_

_Looking up at him, she smiled back. "I'm sure."_

"_Because you know I can burp the hell out of her. It's my main baby skill."_

"_And late night feeds, and changing diapers, and-"_

"_Hey, whoa, careful," he said, holding up a hand and checking the area. "I've got street cred."_

"_Sure you do," she laughed, shaking her head as she returned to Carol._

_After rubbing her back in a manner he hoped was reassuring, he moved to the door on the other side the room. As he went he nodded at or patted the shoulders of the dozen or so people who had accompanied him on their escort mission._

_They were on their way out of City 17, heading to Black Mesa East, and then to White Forest, which was pretty much the safest place for a miracle baby._

_So. Here they were. Cornered, and, as much as Barney tried not to think about such things, probably about to be surrounded and outnumbered by CPs. All he had with him was his standard issue CP firearm. The others had better firepower at their disposal, but Civil Protection had numbers._

_There was more crashing and yelling below, muffled by the floor._

_Ray was crouching beside the door, pulse rifle at the ready. Barney squatted down beside him._

"_Any idea what's goin' on?"_

_He shook his head gravely. "I think they're just below us."_

"_Shit," Barney breathed. "They can hear Carol."_

_Ray nodded. "Barney…"_

_The ex-security guard looked at his friend expectantly._

"_Normally I wouldn't even think about suggesting this, but…"_

"…_what?"_

"_There are twelve people in here. Three are medics, we've got a communications expert, a drill instructor…"_

"_Shut up."_

"_I'm sorry, Barney, I just-"_

"_I said shut the hell up." Jumping up to his feet, Barney strode over to Wicker. "How's she doin'?"_

"_I… she won't be quiet. I'm sorry, she's-"_

_He squatted down opposite her, and removed his glove. Savouring the softness beneath his fingers, Barney tenderly stroked the baby's head._

"_Hey," he whispered. "It's me. Barney. I've carried you a couple of times, sung you a couple of tunes, y'know, just been a general all 'round entertainer. But right now, I really need you to be quiet. Because there are bad people comin', and they're gonna hurt your mom. I'm gonna do my best to stop that happenin', but I need you to be quiet. Please."_

_Carol kept on crying._

"_Please," he begged. "I need you to be quiet so bad…"_

_The wail became even louder. _

_His jaw clenched, and he closed his eyes, praying. "Please!"_

_Ray called over from the door. "Barney, they're heading for the stairs."_

_Unable to find the words, Barney just nodded frantically._

"_Barney!"_

"_I know!" he hissed with enough animosity to shock everybody. _

_Except for Carol. She just kept on crying._

_He stood up. Knotting is fingers in his hair, Barney just stared down at Wicker and her baby. He looked around the room at all the people who were about to die. There was a hidden door leading into a side room with enough space for them to hide. The CPs were still far enough away not to hear them if they moved now. But if Carol kept on crying…_

_He didn't know what to do._

_The CP boots came up the stairs, their radio chatter echoing ominously down the corridor._

_No. He did know what to do. He just didn't know if he could do it._

"…_Wicker…"_

"_No," she said firmly, eyes locked on her baby._

"_Wicker."_

"_I said no!" Her eyes came up to meet his, tears streaming down her cheeks. "There is no way, Barney."_

"_June," he whispered, crouching down in front of her, "They're gonna come in here, and they're gonna kill us and then take Carol. Guaranteed. If we…"_

_His voice died in his throat._

"_What?" Wicker snarled. "If we what, Barney? Come on. Say it."_

"_If we… hide and leave Carol for them to find… they'll take her. But we'll be alive. We'll be able to save her!"_

"_How do you know?" she managed, her voice shaking. "How do you know they won't kill her? How do you know you'll be able to find her?"_

_Taking a deep breath, Barney removed his other glove and took Wicker's face in his hands. Gently, he brought her eyes up to meet his._

"_They won't kill her because she's a miracle. You know it, I know it, they know it. They'll… want to find out how she even exists."_

_Wicker's face crumpled. "Oh God-"_

_He gave the barest of jolts to get her looking at him again. "But that doesn't matter. Because I'm gonna find her before she gets anywhere near their labs. You hear me? I absolutely will not stop until I have found Carol and brought her back to you. I love her like she was mine, and there is nothing - NOTHING - that will stop me from saving her."_

_Gasping unsteadily through her tears, Wicker managed a sort-of nod, though it could easily have been her head shaking._

_Barney kept his eyes on Wicker as he spoke to the others. "Everybody out," he whispered._

_It was a surprise anybody could even hear them. Barney vaguely felt Ray's hand on his shoulder as he passed by. It only took them a couple of seconds to gather in the room, the door open._

_There was a long moment of silence, where even the approaching CPs were respectfully quiet._

"_Barney?" Ray said gently._

_Barney nodded. He and Wicker stared at each other as he slowly slid his arms around Carol, supporting her head._

_As she released her grip, Wicker let out a low, animalistic moan that as far as Barney was concerned should never have to come out of a human being. A sound of pure grief and pain. _

_Holding Carol as gently as he could, he nodded to Ray to come and take Wicker into the room. He hesitantly did as he was told, kneeling down beside her with his arms around her shoulders._

"_C'mon, Wicker. We gotta go."_

_With a stare of pure agony that Barney was sure would haunt him for the rest of his life, Wicker went._

_Which left Barney kneeling in the middle of the room, alone with Carol. _

"_You be strong, okay? Because I'm comin' for you. I'm gonna hit them so fast and hard they won't know what the hell's hit 'em. Just you wait. Uncle Barney's comin' to save the day. I promise."_

_Slowly, he lay the crying baby down on the floor. With a self-loathing he never would have thought possible, he heaved himself to his feet. The CPs were approaching down the corridor now, drawn by Carol's terrible wailing._

_The group made room for Barney as he shuffled inside. He pressed a hand to the sliding door. Keeping his eyes on Carol, he slid it shut._

_They sat in the room and listened to the CPs arrive. It sounded like there were soldiers with them. With an efficiency that Barney had come to expect from them, they made a cursory inspection of the room before collecting Carol. They left the room after only a quick discussion._

_No-one spoke or even moved after they left. They all just… stood there._

"_Barney…"_

_It was Ray, a tentative hand on his shoulder._

"_You… didn't have a choice. Sometimes… things like that… have to be done. They aren't pleasant, but… they're for the greater good."_

_Head bowed, Barney looked over at Wicker, who had taken up a position on the wall opposite him, curled up in a ball. Her face was a red, puffy mess. _

_And she was staring right at him._

_Somehow, Ray's words didn't comfort him._

* * *

But Barney always remembered them. There were the first words he had heard after he had done maybe the single worst thing in his entire life.

"It was you," he said, his voice low and dark.

Ray glanced around. "What?"

Kyle and Wicker looked clueless.

The rage just bubbled over, and Barney stormed over to Ray, smashing the butt of his rifle into his face. Ray tumbled onto his back, scrambling back along the ground.

"YOU DID IT!" he bellowed, his voice carrying through the forest. And frankly, he didn't give a shit. He kept on Ray as he crawled back, throwing his rifle aside and grabbing him by the vest.

"You son of a bitch," he growled, his voice trembling as he pounded a fist across his chin. "What the hell is wrong with you? Why'd you do it? _Why?!"_

He felt arms wrapping around his, pulling him off the panicking Ray. Barney looked around and saw Wicker and Kyle latched onto an arm each.

"Barney, c'mon, that's enough," Kyle managed, grunting with the effort of fighting Barney's surge of rage.

"No it's not!" he spat. "It's never gonna be enough for him!"

Wicker grabbed him by the vest and whirled him around to face her. This had the effect of calming him, if only a little.

"Barney. What are you talking about?"

He struggled to catch his breath, all too aware that Ray could bolt at any moment. "It was him, June."

She was taken aback by his use of her first name, but she was still nowhere near comprehending. "What, calling the Combine? How'd-"

"Not just that!" he snapped.

There was along, terrible moment of silence as Wicker processed what Barney was implying. Ray stopped breathing from his spot on the floor, horrified eyes locked on Wicker. Kyle glanced between all of them, massively confused.

And Barney felt… right. He had searched tirelessly, morning, noon and night, never resting for a single moment while he searched for Carol. It had taken him months, nearly half a year… and nothing. Nothing, until Alyx had come across records of an experiment that mentioned a subject acquired on the same day as Carol's abduction.

The subject didn't survive it. Wicker had never forgiven him, and even if she had, Barney would never be able to forgive himself. Even now, with someone to blame, he still couldn't bring himself to put it all on Ray.

Wicker finally caught up, but the change in her expression was only subtle. Instead, she just turned towards Ray, who by now had staggered to his feet. Nose bleeding and cheek bruised, he held his hands out in front of him.

"Wicker… he's wrong, that's not-"

She batted his hands aside far more viciously than Barney had managed before, following it up with an elbow to the throat. Choking, Ray stumbled back, his hand on his neck. She continued on, hitting him over and over again, the accuracy suffering in favour of the speed and strength of the blows. All Ray could do was put his hands up in surrender and back away.

"SHE WAS MY BABY! MY BABY!"

She kept on repeating the words, screaming them over and over again until they were almost incoherent.

Kyle glanced at Barney. He did his best to look reassuring, but he knew that he probably failed. The fact was, he wanted to lay into Ray with the same vigour as Wicker.

"Wicker," Ray begged, his voice a whimper, "It was for the best, it-"

"Shut up! Just shut up!"

An explosion rocked the camp behind them, and they all turned to see what was going on. Gunfire erupted. The sound of Hunters trampling their way through the forest became louder and louder as they approached.

Turning around, Barney saw that Ray had bolted, sprinting for all he was worth into the forest.

"No, no you don't," Wicker snarled, scooping up Barney's dropped pulse rifle and charging after him.

Barney started after her. "Wicker, don't- June!"

Another explosion blasted out from the camp, and Barney heard someone calling him. Torn between two of the most important obligations of his life, Barney glanced back and forth for just a moment before deciding on what he had to do.

Not that there was ever any doubt. He knew the instant he had heard the first explosion.

"Kyle," he said, jogging back towards the camp, "Go after them. Stop her from doin' somethin' she'll regret, okay?"

"But what-"

"No time, Kyle, just _go!" _he cried, throwing him his handgun. "And be careful!"

The last he saw of Kyle was him clumsily grabbing the pistol out of the air and holding it to his chest, looking utterly baffled and more than a little scared.

Barney knew the feeling. And he wished more than anything he could have acted on his emotions and followed Wicker himself.

But he needed to look after everybody else. He was a security guard. It was his job.

* * *

(A/N: It's getting repetitive now, I know, but thanks for all the reviews. Keep it up!)


	10. Stalling

Disclaimer: I don't own _Half-Life._

_**One Long Shift**_

_**Chapter Nine: Stalling**_

Usually Kyle was pretty clueless as to the grander scheme of things. Sure, he usually knew the big, vague details - evil alien empire, valiant resistance movement, Gordon 'The Opener of the Way' Freeman - but the stuff about what the plans to stop the Combine actually were, that kind of thing? Not something that entered his mind.

Not that he wasn't curious. It was just above his pay grade. If the resistance had pay grades.

And, frankly, part of him didn't _want _to know the details. He was happy to just do his part and help in any way he could. Of course, it didn't hurt that this way the Combine would have no reason to interrogate him. Although after his experience with the slug thing, that wasn't so comforting. Seemed the Combine were content to suck out your brains regardless of whether you knew anything or not.

He stopped at a tree to catch his breath, and also to give his freshly healed leg a break. He had been so distracted by the conversation he had been having with Barney had hadn't even paid attention to Wicker applying the med-pack. The sounds of the battle behind him were intermittent. Kyle wasn't sure if that was a good thing.

Of course, he would _kind of _like to know what the hell was going on now. First Ray looks like he's rescuing him, then makes to shoot him - and maybe would have if Barney hadn't come in. Then Barney starts accusing him of being a Combine collaborator. _Then _Ray denies seeing him being dragged off by a Hunter. _Then_ Barney attacks Ray. Then _Wicker _attacks him, talking about her _daughter_, or all things.

A daughter? Kyle had no idea she even _had _a daughter. And Ray had something to do with what happened to said daughter. Or something. Neither Barney or Wicker were particularly elaborate on that point.

There was the old adage of 'mind your own business', but… Kyle was here, with a gun, chasing Wicker and Ray _because _of that business, so he figured that maybe gave him a right to know.

A gunshot echoed from ahead of him, followed by an incredibly angry yell from Wicker.

"You know I can hit you from here, Ray!"

He set off, running as fast as his weakened leg would allow. It only took him a couple of seconds to find them.

Wicker had her rifle raised, pointed at Ray's back. Ray was a couple of paces ahead of her, hands in the air. But it didn't look like he had been shot. Yet. Kyle guessed that the gunshot he heard before had been a warning shot.

Flexing his fingers on the grip of his handgun, Kyle glanced between them, his breathing light. Hesitantly, he brought up the gun, unsure of who to point it at. Finally, with a helpless grimace, he threw the gun away.

Though she noticed the sound of the gun hitting the ground, she didn't take her aim from Ray.

"Turn around and leave, Kyle."

"Uh… Barney told me to-"

"_Fuck Barney! _Turn around and leave!"

Kyle swallowed. Shit, his hands were shaking. Why were his hands shaking?

"Wicker. This… this isn't going to solve anything."

"I'm not tryin' to solve anythin'. Does this look like a puzzle to you? No, this is a child-murdering bastard getting what he deserves."

A cold shiver ran through Kyle as he saw his old friend in an entirely new, horrible light.

Ray risked a look back. "Wicker, I didn't-"

"YOU SHUT UP! YOU SHUT THE HELL UP!"

Slowly, Kyle started walking towards Wicker. "Look, I… don't know what he did. And you don't have to tell me. I just-"

"I had a baby, a couple of years ago. A miracle baby. Her name was Carol and she was the most beautiful thing I had seen in my entire life. And this…" She literally spat as she looked at Ray. "…thing, he… called the Combine, told them where my baby was. And we had to leave her. Everybody else would have died if we didn't, and we thought we could rescue her, we thought…"

Tears were building in her eyes, but she blinked them away, taking a deadly step towards Ray. Kyle side-stepped along with her, keeping himself beside her.

"Do you know what happened to her, Ray?" she growled.

He didn't reply.

"ANSWER ME!"

"No! No, I…" He sighed, and bowed his head. "I don't."

"I did. Alyx found out. They experimented on her, and she died. I don't know what they did, but we've all seen Stalkers before. We know what the Combine…" Her bottom lip trembled. "…we know what they can do."

His mind was a blank. There were literally no thoughts in Kyle's head. All he could do was watch and listen.

"And _you _called them. You told them where to find her, _knowing _what they would do to her."

Ray still didn't reply, and Wicker didn't look like she was going to add anything soon. She was literally shaking with rage, though through some miracle she managed to keep a stable grip on her rifle.

Frowning, Kyle slowly looked over at Ray. "Why?"

Ray's head twitched, as if he hadn't been expecting that. Whether it was the question or the fact that it was Kyle asking it that surprised him, Kyle didn't know.

"…it's for your own good."

That answer even managed to hit Wicker, who blinked in shock. _"What?"_

"We're… the human race, we're… too stubborn. I can see what the Combine are offering us, and in the end it's better for us. Biologically, technologically… they've got so much they want to share with us, and we're… biting the hand that feeds. Everyone thinks about it but never says anything, because it's this dirty little secret; that if we just _stopped _resisting and just… _got over ourselves_… then they'd help us."

Almost dumbfounded by the strange words that were coming out of his best friend's mouth, Kyle closed his eyes and shook his head. He vaguely hoped that he'd open his eyes and this would somehow never have happened.

"What… I… Ray, have you not been _awake _for the past two decades? The war? The enslavement?"

"Big changes always take time, and there are some dark patches, but we can come out the other side shining so brightly, don't you understand? Us and them, them and us… there are no sides, here. It should just be _us_. All of us, working together."

Wicker's eyes had literally darkened during some part of that speech, and Kyle watched nervously as she adjusted her grip on the rifle.

"I'm going to shoot you now," she said, her voice disturbingly even.

"Don't-" Kyle reached out, stopping just short of actually touching the rifle.

"Why, Kyle?! _Why? _Did you hear what he just said? The crazy shit he believes? You think that's gonna change if I don't kill him?"

"You're not going to kill him," Kyle said, feeling completely certain.

"I've killed people before."

"Yeah, in a war. They were shooting at you, you shot at them. That's not what this is. This is an execution, Wicker. That's the kind of stuff the Combine do. I've seen CPs…" He sighed heavily, horrific images flowing back to him. "…I've watched… friends… be lined up and shot."

He lay a gentle hand on the top of her rifle.

"That's _them_. Not you." With as little pressure as he could manage, he gradually pushed down on the rifle. "That's not you."

At first, she resisted, and Kyle was considering the possibility that he might get into a fight with Wicker over someone who had been working with the Combine for years. Then, much to his relief, she seemed to allow it, her grip slackening.

That was when Kyle spotted the Hunter leaping into view on the other side of Wicker. Without a moment's thought he grabbed her roughly by the shoulders and threw her aside, intending to leap with her but stumbling on his injured leg.

A burst of flashes blasted out of the Hunter as it fired the darts. Kyle felt a series of pinpricks hitting his body, the final one lodging in his neck, just below his ear.

Falling to the ground, he heard the steadily increasing whine of the darts as they prepared to explode.

Kyle looked at Ray and Wicker.

"Run-"

The whining came to a crescendo.

There was a bright flash.

And then there was nothing.

* * *

(A/N: Reviews welcome, as always)


	11. Easing Forward

Disclaimer: I don't own _Half-Life._

_**One Long Shift**_

_**Chapter Ten: Easing Forward**_

With a grunt, Barney scooped up another two handfuls of dirt and tossed them into the pit. Usually they would have said a few words (or stood in respectful silence) over the open grave, but Kyle's body…

Well, nobody particularly wanted to look down on what had become of him. Better that everybody had the mental image of his confused smile or his weird run or… whatever people wanted to remember about him.

For a reason that Barney couldn't quite reach, they had buried Kyle's body last. Maybe there was just an extra pinch of guilt because he had ordered Kyle into the forest after Wicker and Ray. If he hadn't, it would probably be Ray he was burying now. And frankly, he didn't think there were many people around the camp who wouldn't be happy with that trade-off.

But, here they were, burying the last of five people who had died in that last attack. The final of said attacks, if Ray was to be believed. They had searched him to be sure and found nothing. Barney had even had the Vorts give him the once-over with whatever voodoo they could, and they didn't come up with anything that would lead the Combine to them again.

Eighteen people left, including the Vorts. Without them, that was… fourteen. From thirty-one.

He sighed. There were lots of things he considered the hardest part of his job, and he regularly changed his mind depending on which one he happened to be doing at the time. But this… this was definitely in the top five.

With one final throw, he was finished. Blowing out a breath in a combination of relief and sadness, Barney pushed down on his knees and stood upright. He patted his hands together, sending small clumps of dirt flying off in all directions.

Ray, kneeling at the other end of the grave, made no such move to get up. He had practically charged his way through headfirst to help Barney bury Kyle. And, despite everything he was responsible for, Barney couldn't bring himself to refuse.

He cleared his throat authoritatively, though it did nothing to prevent the hoarseness in his voice. "I, uh… I don't know if anybody wants to say anything… I sure as hell don't know what to say. So, uh… how about we just think about these five people and… how much we liked 'em."

With a smile he hoped was reassuring, Barney cast his gaze around the gathering. Stephanie was sat cross-legged on the floor, cheeks red and puffed up from crying. He wasn't sure, but Barney guessed that there had been something going on there. Maybe not anything huge, but the beginning of something, maybe.

And now that was all that was left. The potential of something, cut off before it had a chance to grow. That was what the Combine did. This is what war did. Barney hoped that Ray would end up seeing that. But, judging by the look on his face as he stared down at the grave, Barney guessed that whatever reasons he had to justify his actions to himself weren't working anymore.

He searched the crowd for Wicker, but couldn't find her. Probably tending to those who were still alive. And even if she wasn't, Barney couldn't blame her for not attending. For not wanting to be within square mile of Ray.

After what he guessed was a minute, Barney took a breath. "Okay, people. Let's uh, pack up and move it on out. Still got a lot of ground to cover."

The crowd slowly spread apart. Barney looked over at Bob, who had been stood beside him for the entire service.

"Keep an eye on Ray. No, uh… pun there, or anything."

Not understanding that last part, Bob nodded sagely. "Do you believe he shall flee, Calhoun?"

"No. But, uh… I still want him to know we're watchin' him."

"Indeed," he growled sadly.

With a smile he knew looked false, Barney patted the Vort on the shoulder before heading through the almost completely dispersed crowd. He stopped when he came across Boris, who was stood leaning against a tree, arms folded.

Barney nodded at him. He nodded back. All that needed to be said.

Moving to the medical 'bay', Barney searched the place for Wicker from a distance, but couldn't see her. One of the medics, a short guy with flaming red hair, guessed his quarry, and nodded over Barney's shoulder.

Politely smiling, he waved his thanks before trudging over to Wicker. The reason he hadn't seen her at the service was because she had parked herself on the floor, leaning back against a tree with her knees tucked tightly under her chin.

After taking a moment to brace himself, Barney sauntered over and sat down next to her, removing his gloves as he got comfy.

"Hi."

She only moved her eyes to look at him, keeping her head facing forward. "Hi." She pointed a lazy finger towards the graves. "Eloquent, as always."

"Thanks, I uh… I try."

They shared a small smile, glancing over at each other before casting their gazes elsewhere, watching everybody as they went about their business.

Barney fidgeted, pulling apart a leaf as he spoke. "I'm… not sure what to say."

She shrugged. "Nothin' _to _say."

"I don't think that's true."

Wicker - June - was quiet for a moment.

"No," she sighed, putting her forehead against her arms and completely concealing her face.

"Holy shit!"

The sudden cry made them both look up. It was the red-headed medic from earlier, pointing to the sky. In the distance, a rocket shot up, moving almost faster than the eye could follow. A dark cloud billowed out behind it, gently growing and sifting as it ever so slowly fell down to Earth.

"Good job, Gordon…" Barney said, and felt relieved that there was a glimmer of happiness in his chest. After the last day or so he worried that he had burned all of his emotions out.

"Yep," June whispered, her eyes trailing down from the rocket and settling once more on the graves.

"Barney…" she managed, like it was an effort to get the words out.

"Yeah?"

"I… the stuff we found out today, I…" She had to stop, though it didn't look like an emotional thing. It just looked like her brain was working at half the speed. Barney could relate.

He didn't say anything. He wanted to give her the time to say what she wanted to say.

"…it… doesn't change things. I mean, it does, but…" June sighed. "I was… gettin' tired anyway."

He frowned. "Tired?"

She nodded. "Tired of… bein' angry. With you, with me… I mean, I blamed you for what happened, no question-"

A horribly stabbing sensation went through Barney's chest.

"-but I blamed myself as well, because… I was… _am_…her mom. It was my job to be with her. I should have stayed in the room."

"No, it should've been me."

June smiled, and it was the first genuine smile Barney had seen from her in years. "And _that's _why I-" She shook her head. "When you were telling me to leave Carol, you said-"

She stopped herself, and Barney could practically see her reliving that day.

"…you said that you loved her like she was your own. And I believed that. I watched you take care of her _way _more than you needed to. But I hated you so much, I just… I don't think I could admit to myself that I remembered that. You know?"

Blinking away the moistness in his eyes, Barney smiled and nodded. "Yeah."

Her arm twitched, as though testing that it still worked. She brought her hand up and removed the fingerless gloves that had become the Resistance's trademark in hand gear.

Then, hesitantly, her hand moved down to his. With a delicacy that betrayed her surgeon origins, she slid her fingers under his palm and laced them through his. He looked down at their hands, and then up to her. She was gazing straight at him.

"I can't… forgive you. Because it's just…"

Barney smiled. "She was your Carol."

Her smile widened into a grin as tears trickled down her cheeks. Laughing to herself, she ducked her head and wiped away the tears.

"Damn you, Calhoun, for makin' me cry."

"Lady-killer _is_ my middle name."

That made her laugh again.

He released his grip on her hand. Raising his arm up, he shuffled over closer to her side, resting his arm around her shoulders.

For maybe the first time since Barney had met her, June Wicker relaxed, resting her head on his shoulder.

She sighed. "I just can't be angry with you anymore."

Holding her close, Barney rested his cheek on the top of her head, staring out over the fifteen people that he still had to lead home.

"I can live with that."


	12. Epilogue

Disclaimer: I don't own _Half-Life._

_**One Long Shift**_

_**Epilogue**_

The rest of the journey was taken in relative silence. June (it felt so much better to call her that) and the other medics saw to the wounded and kept a close on eye on them as they traversed that last leg of their journey.

Ray had been truthful when he said there were no more Combine attacks coming. Wherever they were, they were clearly busy. But then, seeing that that rocket actually managed to get into the sky without being shot down by a Strider blast told Barney that Gordon and Alyx had probably taken care of the main force.

Barney guessed that if they came across any Combine now, they would be stragglers, the leftovers that weren't sure what to do with their lives now that their portal of doom had swallowed itself.

The amount of cheering that had gone up when that thing closed was impressive, considering there was only fifteen of them. It was also infectious, and Barney hadn't been able to help his grin. Neither had June, come to think of it.

The Vorts, though happy, did seem a little preoccupied. Barney had pondered asking them, but then had thought better of it. If it was anything life-threatening they would let him know.

Though they didn't have any cuffs to signal the fact, Ray was in custody. Barney figured pairing him with Bob was as good a deterrent as any. He could run faster and hit him with a bolt of electricity that Barney knew from experience was _not_ a pleasant thing to get in the back. Or in any part of the body.

During the walk, he had been trying to figure out _why _the Combine were even that bothered about them. Ray sure as hell didn't know, he was just following orders. Considering how they all disappeared after the rocket went up indicated that they had been looking for White Forest, or any information about said base.

Or maybe they were just vindictive bastards who wanted to thin the herd. That was always a possibility. Wonder how Ray would explain that one.

Though it didn't look like he would be explaining much of anything for a while. He hadn't made a peep since the service, and Barney didn't anticipate he would, at least not until after they reached White Forest.

And speaking of which…

"My God, that is beautiful," he muttered as they approached the outer walls of the east entrance.

With a grin so wide it hurt his face, Barney waved to the soldier in the watchtower above the gate.

"Hey there! Good to see ya! Got some very tired people here in need of a bath!"

The soldier waved back wordlessly, and then nodded to somebody on the other side. With a metallic groan the gate slid open, revealing a sullen pair of guards. The left one was a man with an ornate tattoo on his cheek, the right was a woman with several wisps of messy hair descending down from under her hat.

"Barney," the tattoo guy said, clearly surprised. "We didn't know what happened to you."

"Yeah, had some communications trouble," he sighed, hands on hips. "You guys closed the portal, huh? I tell ya, when we saw that…" He whistled, impressed. "It's just really nice to know we're on the track to winnin'."

Turning before the guards had a chance to reply, Barney waved in the group. "C'mon, people, hot water and food awaits!"

There was a mighty 'hallelujah' from the back, and they all came in, each sighing in almost the exact same way as they saw the entrance to the White Forest complex open up.

Bob stopped beside Barney with Ray in tow, a grave look marring his usually quite chirpy Vortigaunt features.

With a heavy sigh, Barney turned back to face the guards. "Yeah, we had some trouble with… well, we had some loyalty issues. Have we got… holding cells, or anythin' like that?"

The guards looked at each other, as if neither knew what to say.

"Uh, don't know," Tattoo said. "I'll have to check."

"Okay, good, do that."

While tattoo went inside, Barney looked to the other guard. "Hey, uh, did Gordon and Alyx make it here okay? Last I heard they were… havin' somethin' done to their essence or somethin'? Sounded kinda filthy to me, but y'know, Vorts, so didn't really know what to make of that."

"Yeah, um… yeah, they did. But, uh…" A horrible look crossed the woman's face.

It was a look Barney recognised. Any goodwill he had been feeling evaporated. He was peripherally aware of June stopping in her tracks and asking somebody else to help her patient inside, all the while watching Barney's conversation intently.

The guard swallowed. "Right after we closed the portal, there was… Advisors got in, and…" She wavered for a moment.

"What?" His hands were frozen on his hips now. He couldn't bring them away. Everything was stuck in limbo while the guard finished her sentence.

"…Eli's dead."

Barney just stared at her. All sound seemed to fade away. The noises from the forest, the trudging of his people's boots, their relieved chatter as they went inside… it all just… vanished into nothing.

Dumbfounded, he looked around and caught a glimpse of Bob's face. He stared at him.

"You knew, didn't you? Right after the portal closed, you knew that was comin'. From that far away, you knew."

"There was nothing to be gained from your learning of such events. The Calhoun could not have arrived any sooner."

"Yes I could," Barney said breathlessly. "I could, I… definitely, I could. I mean, I'm Barney, I, uh… I'm a security guard, I look after people, that's…"

The words died in his throat, and suddenly he felt so alone.

A hand slide into his. Numbly looking over, he found June. She didn't smile or say anything. No platitudes.

She just stood there, holding his hand.

* * *

(A/N: Now go and play _Episode Three_ to continue the story. What? That's not out yet? Never mind, then.

Thanks for reading, everybody, and for all the reviews -they're always much appreciated, believe me)


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